I listen for clarity. Like a violincellopianoconductorsheetmusicflutetrumpet
Like a place where I can fall into loss and hold still.
I listen for the clarity or the clarity of a sound. Of the sound I am looking for the moment of clarity or a moment of aha.
Except that there is sometimes the moment of crickets under a clear sky full of stars
or moon. Or stars and moon. Or clouds and stars and moon. And crickets. And you and me and the thought of “where is the clarity in this?”
Sunday morning I am thinking of rain or piano pancakes or food. Clarity of some sort.
Please stay for the anything of the text or the anything of the anything. The stars are everything and anything and nothing and somehow there but not there in a few years or a few years ago they weren’t there but we still see them somehow. A thousand sunrises. A red sky. I can only see one thing at a time.