Do not allow the quietness
that saturates the halls of night
break through the dawn.
For it will shatter all perception
of time and space, grabbing
reality by the throat.
Then where will the sense
of priorities lie, except among
the fallow ruins of an ancient past,
defying the depth of disregarded
wisdoms, challenging all known facts,
until there is no truth left.
Adhere to the movement of slow
creeping convention, while the
lamented longings are just out of reach.
For the quiet is rooted deep within.
Ann Christine Tabaka lives in Delaware. She is a published poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her most recent credits are The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch, Anapest Journal, Mused, Longshot Island, Indiana Voice Journal, Halcyon Days Magazine, The Society of Classical Poets, and BSU’s Celestial Musings Anthology.
