The silence tonight
has the quality
of thickening cream
liberated, openly receptive
as well
as this giving gesture
done in mime, suggestive
aloof
though not lacking a sense
for human history
and wonder
in a deepening amour, yes,
the type of amoroso that is learnt
from leaning into it,
keen
listening to the listening itself
as it listens
conjuring nothing out of nothing
with an open handed palm, generous
to a fault, flawless even
like a deep blue sapphire, softly
ringing, a bell with no clapper
swings, soundlessly stirring
not a thing
that might reawaken sound
into calling an echo
into the air
though I do not hear emptiness
in this no-thing-ness
I hear
everything.
written January 2021 by
Stephen Lumb
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