In silence, I move. In quietness, I grow. Like a flower in the field; like the falling snow. Beauty I speak, though I do not make a sound; like a stately tree rising from the ground. The moon shines its light and rules with gravity. It needs no noise to cause the shifting of the sea. And like the power of the sun, and of the seeds we sow, In silence, I move. In quietness, I grow.
Poem by Erin Galloway