In the pain of remembering

body and mind hurt

but I look to the Crow on the wire

and hear Hummingbird marble singing

above the fence.

I think in this knitted brow sometimes

tissues rearrange–slow motion, soft earthquakes

moving tiny body mountains towards

a little more soul food, a morsel for the ant,

a morsel for me.

Humanness is a tanglement,

confusion a rushing river thick.

Taming forces in an undoing of habit

I drop below the river top

and listen

to deeper music that dances along

within a different rhythm,

one at which the learning turns gently

and Spirit joins in.