“Whispers of Rumst” (inspired by a morning walk in Belgium) Beneath a sky of rose and blue, Where dawn distills the evening dew, A road unfolds with silent grace, Through fields where dreams still leave a trace. The morning hums a lullaby, As mist clings low and brushes high, The trees stand still in reverent line, As if they know this peace is mine. No voices stir, no footsteps loud, Just breath of earth beneath a cloud, The kind of calm that few may find, A hush that cradles heart and mind. In Rumst, where light begins to bloom, And shadows dance to make more room, I walked alone, yet felt the sound, Of quiet love all around. And though I’ve moved from time and place, This moment holds a sacred space A morning soft as whispered prayer, And Rumst, still waiting… always there.