Hummingbird (2)
It embraces what the mind cannot.
To touch, to be
acquired in the way that light
is drawn to the seed’s
core, one must imagine
silence in the purity of
space – that emptiness between
thought and utterance – filled
with what precedes
intent. The movement
has no end; it is
the breath inhaling us all.
O at the Edges 
Jazz response 2022-03-22: Mmmm… breath inhaling us all! I find that oddly liberating … (Hmmm?)
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I can’t remember the reasoning behind that line, if there was any. I wrote this in the 80s (maybe 1987?), and I still feel connected to it. But that could be due to the bird and not the words. Ha!
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Song from that silence. Beautiful.
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Thanks, Dan. An old poem (I was in my late 20s when it emerged), but it still works for me.
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