At Grandma’s knee, I don’t hear waves crashing or even blood pulsing;
I don’t hear drums of war or reports of carjackings and drug busts.
At Grandma’s knee, there are no break-ins, no nuclear threats, and no conservative and liberal pontificating;
I don’t hear storms coming or earthquakes rolling or the pounding of tidal surf.
At Grandma’s knee, there is a momentary place of rest
and the soft sound of love. And that’s enough.