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Silence

Stand atop a mountain
Death and peril far below
And feel the inner calling
Of the fire and the snow.

Stand atop a mountain
Lodged betwixt the war and peace
And see the inner beauty
Of the angel and the beast.

Stand atop a mountain
Beat the drum and stare ahead
And feel the inner music
Of the living and the dead.

Stand atop a mountain
That from birth has called your name
And feel the inner heaven
That puts all discourse to shame.

Poetry Copyright © 2018 by Ena Whiteraven   All rights reserved.  (This work has been reprinted with permission from the author.)

Bio: Ena Whiteraven is an aspiring writer and poet whose work includes elements of mystery, suspense, and fantasy. She is currently in search of publishers and fellow writers who share her vision. She’s also a guest writer at Spiritually Awkward Magazine  under the name “Ena Henry” and runs a personal blog called Superlative Deviation . Her author site can be found at The Whiteraven Net .

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