There is a sound at
the moment of your birth
as you slip from the not
to the is.
Vedic texts say hearing it
eases us back to that place,
like slipping off the clothes
we are weary of
at the end of the day,
the 18-hour bra
that failed us at noon.

I came home electrified
with this knowledge,
as now and then some bit of wisdom
does bring me to that ecstasy,
hoping to find the vibration
which is my own
as I always have searched
for my life in bits and pieces.

I used to use the word
holding that as my gauge
for what was in my life,
a town word resonate is
as I simplified
I decided to use the word love
an idea I came to
at the point on the highway
where I know I am home.

For days after that I was more
vigorous than ever
in my weeding out,
sorting through jewelry,
and belts and books,
to keep only what I loved.

It was the word sound
that brought me to that room
where I learned of our natural mantra,
as I do follow words
the ones that sing as
they signify,
as everything does
calling out to us or not.
Outside a bee buzzes
at the jade plant bloom.
I can not hear him from here
but somewhere someone is coming
on to the Earth and they hear
that hum of life,
the Earth’s zirrr
as it rotates on its axis,
as it moves through space
and the trill of bush birds
we listened to on the mountain
this morning,
and the color yellow
in bloom right now,
and the bee at my door.