There are times for silence, Gently folding back, Solitude one's companion in the nothing journey, up the mountain. There are times for singing, To the Moon and to her people, Chanting villages echo below. There are times for speaking, To the Earth and all she holds Clutching gently, life in her womb. There are times for dancing, To the Eyes that kiss your spirit, They spiral, like the smoke from flames, unclasped. There are no times, at times, And silence pervades the sound. so very loud.
Wow man, I really dig it. Though the repetition at the end doesn't work for it, IMO. It's strong enough that it needs to be said only once.
