Richard Schnap- A Poem

MURMURS

The quietest place in the world
Is not a public library
For even in the enforced silence
You can still hear the whisper of the words

And it is not a barren graveyard
With its rows of engraved stones
For the wind sings a subtle lullaby
To ease the dead into sleep

And it is not a desolate desert
Burning beneath the hot sun
For the earth begs the sky to open
To let mouthfuls of rain quench its thirst

The quietest place is a church
Where the spirit of God presides
Blessing the lost and the lonely
Without ever making a sound