on these silent isthmi
between
inhalation
and exhalation
i will rest
on dry ground
where,
neither here
nor gone,
i can
wait to be.
extending
rest
between
the
plunging
bellows
filling
falling
filling
falling.
still birdsong fills
this non-life
trilling on;
cars high-hat through
the waiting loop
but
i will tarry on
this grace note,
slow this
intersection
of the blues,
if only i can
think of
you.
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Lessons from Trees
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zone in the zealless year on year (e)xcavate the x-factor and walk with the weak. voice the voiceless understand the uninitiated and ...
beautiful man...love the isthmi between breathes...that is a cool way to put it...the grace notes...and a very touching close...smiles.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful from me too. Beautiful, beautiful heavenly words.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
What a great poem David. I really like "i can wait to be"...the repetition in the second stanza, and the beauty of the third. The title is perfect as well. Great work.
ReplyDeleteDavid, love birdsong and "tarry on this grace note" Really lovely, beautiful poem--makes me want to sigh with contentment :-)
ReplyDeleteVery beautiful and expressive my friend. I love the middle stanza.
ReplyDeleteStillness...rest...quiet. These, a lost art, captured again by your pen. Lovely, my friend.
ReplyDelete