Heart beating in a chest of rivulets, banked by tender mercies

My ringing ears suggest
the crackled glaze of my dreaming.
A bird threaded notes in the dark: stranded constellations,
voicing thoughts that rest in verbs.

Blue-grey sky makes a promise to break,
leaking yellow light on trembling leaves.
I’m waiting: not alone—
we've all done a lot of it.

I’m one to allow extra time. I savor
some minutes of waiting.
It’s time that no one owns,
can't be harnessed or put to use—it's wild and free!

Well, I want to see it that way.
I like time untethered—
unclad by muzak, not a screen in the room.
Mere daylight is a balm.

My heart, still beating, in a chest
of rivulets, is banked by tender mercies.
I’ll wait for news, with no particular need
to arrive at that destination.

©2014-15 Ravenna Taylor