Days are endless loops of chatter
In the stores
On the streets
Passing down crowded halls
Until a wildness calls
Bringing us outward
Into a remote nothing
Without human voices

We drown in the busy-ness
Our words tangle into confusion
The magic we cast
Is forgotten in half-truths
And convenient phrasing

Meter and rhyme and music
Soul deep
Escape us
Until we fly
To a shore or a slope
Or an impenetrable lotus

With only the cries of the wind
And the beat of a heart
The solitary beat
Of a single heart

Caroline A. Slee, October 24, 2016