Evening at Chithurst

by George Marsh
evening at Chithurst –
there is nothing in the world
but the blackbird’s song
the song notes
stitch me
to earth and to clouds
each white head of cloud
takes in
distinct whistled trills
hands cupping water
in the stream – the blackbird’s
voice flows

 
*
air of the shrine room
salted with song – each
meditator breathing
airhead?
who would be anything else
when the blackbird sings
in the silence
between bursts of song
come bursts of heart
eager-eye
whatever you are singing
I agree

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