American Hymn

In this moment there is space

That is not altered with words

It carries our needs with grace

Like the song of a red bird

 

In this moment there is slow

When a phrase is caught in air

To hang, twist, unfurl and grow

With the knowledge it is rare

 
 

In this moment there is love

With a unique sense of place

It forms the white clouds above

And scribes sweet light to your face