Eloquence deserves our careful attention, for it is rare. I am not even sure of the meaning; I just know it when I hear it. I rarely hear it. Perhaps it is a vibratory heads up, a call to introspection. It induces silence—stops the mind in its tracks. It isn’t trite nor is it tedious. Rather, it is like water tumbling from a sacred cascade. You can bathe in its aura, tremble in its grace. The oak leaves outside are eloquent in their trembling (if you know the language of the leaf.) Likewise, the space between two weary thoughts speaks volumes. Let us learn to listen when the tree speaks truth. It says, “Shed your self-importance. Fall softly into the ground of your being.” Well-said, well-said.