They are now seating me in the
dark corners. They still ask how
I'm doing, polite in their adherence to that custom. Is this dark corner a portal to the
underworld my wise friend
referenced? Is this fermented
nectar a potion to
ease the descent?
Is that bird outside your window
singing for you? Listen close.
Don't study it. Don't dissect
it, the bird nor its song. But listen close and hold it in your blood.
When a song is maybe sung for you, and you think you're learning it is, let it in. Harmonize with it. Let the bird sing you to the sky, or if needed hum its tune on your way down.
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