Self-hood.
One recent evening as light spoke its last
and covered with molten
pink tinted rose-buds blackbird\'s late song
wrung the still air in passion
from nowhere as cascades of neatly strung
notes coated the gloaming
with soul which struck my heart in passing.
Inspired to listen with intent deafened by
life\'s ever busyness
I heard crystal clear scales piercingly pure
pervading the quiet
enough for the urge to scribe such beauty
as symphonic self-hood
trilling its bird-song and filling the twilight.
Oh if only I could.