A Gestalt Moment

A gloomy, quiet, rainy afternoon. I sit
at my kitchen table, kept company by three cats,
each sleeping on a kitchen chair. One snores.
From another I hear moist noises as
she meticulously bathes herself.

Gazing outside at the Live Oaks, I witness
trees embrace a weeping sky, unable to catch
it all. Sorrow covers the earth. Does God weep?

A lit vanilla candle sits on the windowsill,
the flame bending, swaying with an unseen draft.
I wonder at its silence… many flames together
hiss, crackle, and roar, but one alone produces
a whisper inaudible to the human ear.

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