Why I Sing


At the end of an open road
of a teacher’s instruction, I began

to achieve some perspective, able
to pull every possible breath

to the centre of my body, gathering
of strength before that sustained

blow of a note punched free
from between my eyes, angling

a clean path through the air,
as if air was all

the world was made of, or, at least,
the treacherous fog of its concept.

And vision rises out to meet it,
stepping forward into what I dare

call enlightenment – respite,
more like, even mercy –

and those with ears that run all
the way into the emptied

core of them would creep out too
and join me up that track

through air, wide as the crack
loss draws across the back

of a mind, each word in a song
taking us so far from what we are

we find ourselves again,
become lighter than air.

from Like A Seed With Its Singular Purpose

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