Twas what my mama often said
But sounds of silence
Are at times deafening
Imagined shouts
Of outstanding victory
Amongst faintest whispers
Of terrible tragedies
Silence is not golden to me
Choka
Breaks thru the morning silence
Doves at daybreak
Haiku
Fell over the years
Many tears, many fears
Yet He captured every one
God’s Love
Cinquain
You keep track of all my sorrows You have collected all my tears in your bottle You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8 NLT