Empty Ear
a thought
Thunder stepping quietly, while
the moon is rising in the mouth of a minor,
a boy child —
lurking in the underbelly.
Whispering the songbirds chipper,
in his empty ear.
Searching a turmoil mind-
seeding roots in the mountain desert.
Planting the taste for judgement.
Rising to walk, to turn, to crawl,
adapting to the sound of prayer above his little head.
Tongues spoken.
Flowing on a stream through the clouds,
in awe.
What does nature sound like?
What does it sound like within you?
Would you sing it to me darling?
Filling a train with lessons learned,
stuffing it under your pillow.
Old worn rights and wrongs,
ways of meeting this world growing old.
Growing human.
It’s what we tell ourselves,
tell you.
One foot in front of the other.
You’re walking.
The line I drew for you,
it’s been given to me too.
Adapted it a little,
for better or worse.
Stumbling as part of your dance,
life the dancer.
It’s what I’ve heard.
Trees and you the same and different,
it’s in how you look.
There is a you meeting me from your eyes now,
in awe.
What does it look like from where you are?
What does it look like within you?
And who am I?
Filling your empty ears.
