I listen to arms and faces.
\nI listen to the way the eye looks,
\nthe bond between the waves,
\nthe gulf that blows its echo
\nwith the wind.
\nI listen carefully to silence
\nand faces caught in repose.
\nI listen to the mouth cast in sleep,
\nthe soft line or the hard line.
\nI listen to its deep poetry.
\nI listen to words not used,
\nthe aviary of small thoughts
\ntaken up in a flock of wings.
\nI listen as a way of seeing,
\nhearing, touching.
\nI take in the resonating pause,
\nthe earth thinking.<\/p>\n
I am an audience of one,
\na shadow with its thoughts.
\nI go wherever I wish in the imaginal sky.
\nI am never alone,
\nnever without the hum of conversation going on.
\nEverything speaks to me
\nbecause I listen,
\nI care.
\nI am learning how the stone feels,
\nhow the air longs for its face,
\nhow the wasp leaves behind its stinger,
\nhow the meadow claps with its other song.<\/p>\n
And they all come to tell me
\nof their lives,
\nof destiny seen from the darkness,
\nthe height,
\nthe transparent arms of a symphony.
\nAnd because I am an audience,
\nI have friends
\nwho do not mind where I am.
\nThey come to have me listen,
\nto make their day.
\nSh…do you hear them?
\nCicadas dreaming.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I listen to arms and faces. I listen to the way the eye looks, the bond between the waves, the gulf that blows its echo…<\/p>\n