Beyond the most cherished,
What remains?
A fingertip pushes aside strands of hair,
Hummingbird comes to sit on a branch a breath overhead,
Two slow dance hidden among shelves of books for sale,
Blood moon behind fog suspends its wakeful,
And answers still;
The movement of silence
grasps, unforgettable and impermanent.
Where can the spoken be formless
but here?
Yesterday and tomorrow, never mind.
On the head of the pin, perch,
the entire world sparks before you.

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