A Hush, A Breeze

Nothing but your voice now 

Let me hear you speak 

I miss the way it sounds when you are leaning, whispering 

A hush, a breeze, the softest sound 

Delightful as the stream 

Over rocks, my eardrums drink 

The sounds of trickling

As the deer panteth, so my soul

Knows what it is to thirst 

The timbre of your voice sounds 

As heaven here on earth

Image captured along Sycamore Trail at Umstead State Park, North Carolina