Poem: Listening at Sunset
Listening at Sunset
In a park, I listen at sunset.
I listen to the whooshing of cars, on the highway over there, behind that stand of trees.
I listen to the insects, waking as dusk descends, starting their nocturnal conversations.
I am still.
Instead of others’ voices, especially the sound of loved ones’ demands and needs,
Instead of my voice, my mind, cluttered in reliving the day, as the day winds down,
I listen to the Divine inside me, faintly broadcasting, as I tune to the frequency.
There It is.
I am listening again,
While under the muting sky, the banter of insects grows louder.
–Angela Loëb; © 2002
Angela Loëb has been dabbling in writing poetry since she was in third grade… and she also helps people rediscover and use their gifts so they bring who they really are to what they do in life. http://about.me/angelarloeb __________________________________________________________