The Listening

Light,
a presence like a silk scarf undulating
across the sea floor.
Schools of thought scurry
through the ballerina's adoring wings--
a caress
that helps me out of my one-legged self,
past fear of being seen,
to the shore where our breath mingles.

Inside,
the breeze wanders through the ruins,
the lonely fortress on the grey stage--
what will become of this?
Time
scatters the shivering question like ashes.
The magic is in the layers,
heavy, silent and dark,
where earthworms convert noise
into the listening.

Inspired by the idea of an ecology of humanism.