Sometimes I stop to listen
Tune my ear to the humming between everything
The seed and the sun
A blade of rain and the black of the ocean
Life wants to live itself
So lean in
And if you're gentle, a rhythm might emerge
Form in the formless
Silence, drumming, howling
Desire is asking us to dance
But it isn't easy to let go
Our stories domesticate us
We suspect cruelty behind the eyes of the kind
And dissect the archaeology of our own imaginations
On these maps, there is no room for miracles
Yet still, somehow you know its possible
Harvest, tears, spring
In the embers of a fire, all of a sudden, there it is
I remember as I finally hear it
Society is just a clearing in the forest
The flames begin to whisper with the wind
And this time, I believe them
