Sound loves hollows —
deep bodies of cellos,
silver shafts of flutes,
wet echoes of tunnels
and the ever-longing span
between the heart and throat
In the roundness of the cavity —
concave convergence of the waves —
the sound can dance and dance
and gather strength
till it emerges, pure and confident
Some hollows must remain unfilled,
must wait in ready emptiness
to send the sweet song
down the cove of deep desire —
must welcome it in circled emptiness
a steady vigilance
that holds the still
that gathers joy.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 14, 2013
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