I hungered for the garden of Self,
While the fruit was rotting on the vine.

I yearned for the drink that would end this parched wandering,
While the well was waiting.

I longed for the signs of peace,
While the white flags mingled with the tender young doves.

I listened for the music of the spheres,
While the infinite orchestra of my life,
Played out its sweetest symphony to the theater of me,

My empty chair creaking with my absence.

by Sheridan Bushnell from her book
"Where Imagination Meets Infinity"
To Order This Book or any of Sheridan's Works Vist the Sonorous Press Order Form

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