Hu

 

Hu dips up this breath

from the ancient stream

of Presence?

Hu decants moonbeams

through the hollow of your bones?

Hu drops tiny violet petals,

each filled

with the whole sky,

on a pearl-white pool

in the wilderness,

that valley of sighing

just below your heartbeat,

where a thirsty exhalation

comes down to drink

in the morning, or the cool

of the evening

like a wounded cougar?

Hu... Hu...

This is not a question

but a name

that fills your heart

with silence.