voice

No rocking required: heartbeat enough

 

voice

voice
stands
like a statue… set in stone

pushes
like a crusher
molding steel

whispers
like a summer breeze
weaving tendrils

sings
like a love bird’s
nesting wings

whispers
like a mother’s
sweet lullaby

voice
leads you home
and out again

Out of the Tumbler

Stones from the tumbler
roll smoothly
in the hand;
warm the skin
nestle in.

I’m a tumbler stone
worn down
rounded
cuddley…
after 71 years.

No longer sharp edged:
cutting
pointing
directing.

Now,
circumspect
with shiny wisdom surface.

Wisdom
gathered
by rolling,
rushing in the stream,
open to the sun.

Now
I
run
to
ash.

Surrender to my transformation.

Welcome it!

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