On wings and breath and wind
It lifts and for a time we soar
as we stand mute
hoping it will linger
on exquisite moments of intimacy
as we sniff a baby’s head
embrace a friend
a poem, a picture, a sensuous dish.
Like a humming bird,
collecting experiences like sweet nectar
only to stall and dive
piercing the depths of our liquid emotions
searching for absolution from
pain, frustration, disappointment, sorrow.
Clipping the very wings with which we soared.
a beating pulse
a metronome of
wings to keep us aloft
The present being only the half beat in between.
in one direction
stop it, slow it
or turn it back.
We can only ride its currents.