there is a small moment
© by Kathleen Dunbar
there is a small moment
when the still air
touches the bird's breast
and nothing else exists for her
more important
than being alive
to the invisible warmth
that is the breath
of gardens
long trees
and sunwarmed stone
all that is alive has
risen to meet her
in the crystal
animal of the air
that waits
next to her
on her high branch
she—who is made
to sing—
allows the wind
when it begins to stir
to touch her soft body
where her
invisible voice lives
and she begins
to feel called
exquisitely
to return the vitalness
and press
of garden
and tree
and stone
in the poured
silver of her song
there is nothing
compared to
her joy when the wind
moves into her
and her exquisite
allowing
of the taking
of her singing body
this is the reason
she was given a voice
so
of course
she tips
and falls
and flies