I’m trying to listen
I’m trying to listen to the whispers beyond words
To sounds beneath sounds
I’m thinking hard
Sometimes not thinking
And doing that hard too
Concentrating so hard on that silence
Before the next thought comes in
Listening to the listener

I’m trying to see the colours beneath the sunset
To dig even deeper for nutrients that might feed my heart
Which sometimes blooms like the sun behind the clouds
Just before sundown
It blossoms and billows
Like a nebula
Like the shanks of a volcano shrouding the lava
Like sheafs of ash enveloping a coal
Like a flower
A lotus of course
Then again perhaps honeysuckle
Sweet sweet delicious
More intimate than a rose
The scent of heaven surely
The soft tendrils of pink and white and yellow
Sometimes my heart blooms like this
And I trust

Today I will not talk about the shrinking cold and dark
The anguish of tightness and restriction
A poor anemone poked at lowtide
Children and their sticks
Maybe
Or maybe not

The clouds are just so this evening
The petals around the heart of the flower
Unfurling across the sky in the softest colours
The sweetest cirrus formations
I cannot will not tear my eyes away
It’s a nectar I’ve been needing
Enough
It’s enough
So am I
Beneath this rippling sky
A drink of relief
A drink of eternity in a flower

I had plans to be productive
Waylaid I was by the sunset sky
Yes please and thank you
Hold me to you
Water my heart so it may flourish
Like your cloudy petals against infinite blue sky
Like a summer’s day
Even in the coldest winter
Warmth within

I’m not trying so hard beneath this sky
Effortless listening
A song beneath
a song