Steven Hartung

post depress

I reconcile, within
It's been a trillion eons
Since I last felt my face
With my hands

Look up, the sky bends
Above our narrow path
Each day becomes
Its blueness

I live in the woods,
Burnt heartache sorrow
Embers soft to blackness,
Birds silent, as if they do not exist

I recorded them once, in their morning wave
Play it back to them in darkness
They focus, confuse
Give up a brief midnight cadence

Before returning into silence.
To reconnect, then dissolve
I am birdsong and darkness
I remember being

Part of all of it, the void,
Birds who accompany us. We
Sing out our sorrow, learn
What makes the sky its blue