Santoshi, I am now

Weaving patterns into the fabric

Of all I sense, in wonder,

Revealing the interleave, 

As I surrender, in reverence, 

To blend with this weave.

From these threads

A hummingbird emerges

In iridescent indigo and burgundy.

With her beak, she grasps 

The fabric 

Of still dark waters, her own image

Stretches and lets go.

Her messages travel in ripples

To those who wait, and respond,

Awakening tessellating resonances

Permeating my senses.

Music revealing rarefactions

That draw me away from 

The compression of loneliness.

I gather these moments

To create vast spaces 

Of solace —

Where the gentle, sharp strum from her chirp

Echoes my happiness.