Hush

by Julia Fehrenbacher

In a world of 8.3 billion, soundbites that boil blood, flood every cell– how do we hear the wordless, the wise? Not the reused and recycled, but the fresh, the new, the true. Might we hush the blast of noise and ask the trees, the chickadees to point us inward— let the bluebells, the fawn lily teach us how to become fluent in poetry— how to blossom in the shade of so much.

---

Reprinted with the kind permission of Julia Fehrenbacher.