Play The Wind

I can’t help but whistle

this morning, surrounded by

cheer.  It’s cool and clear,

the symphony inviting.

If it were simply a song

sparrow or a quail, I would

echo and mimic, a duet

of sorts, but this hour

is atwitter and cheeps and

liquid trills rise blended by

surely some unseen conductor.

My morning embouchure opens

a high range so pleasing

to my ears, I feel my way

into the mix with short bursts

of goodwill and heart

listening.  Filling this opening

and then the response.

The goldfinch keeps feeding

and the cedar waxwing

preens until I miss

the subtle shifts and changes,

grabbing the mike for a solo

that takes so much space

the song moves to the tall

branches.  I lost the connection

seizing the melody in my joy

—I’m back in the band, man!

How to screw up your audition:

play an amazing solo

get lost in your own tune,

flowing so bright and thrilling

that you lose your ear

for what supports you.

Even when I raise my face

project my jocular tones

to the leafy trees,

this is a serious matter,

singing tree spirits

and sky wisdom.

Silence as they wing

to the wind.  I’m alone again

with paper and pen and

a resonant longing to fit in.

Inspired by: Whistle, Jocular, Project and Wind and the SoCS prompt to write instructions as a stream of consciousness, no editing.

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Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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