it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Tonight the girl is living high

as the sky

before she crashes low

and below the surface

she goes

with her periscope,

her records,

her thousand beaux.

Home I go.

I hear the noise of the morning,

the rushing water

the footsteps

the everyday sonnet

the basso of my continuo

playing through my hands.

I touch the papers on my desk

the clear, rounded glass and

the grass on the ground. then,

the wind in this void of a world

that exists as a single breath, just beyond the

the bounds of my heart.

It’s just now in the moment

that I realize it’s all

my head, my hands.

my hands, my heart.

herein lies my hallelujah.

behold, silence

behold, stillness

falling snow?

i hear it spring, summer, and fall;

carry it in my hands.

therein lies my hallelujah.

recall the thought,

the feeling,

the memory in the mirror.

is it a blur?

this spinning blue earth

in the middle of all space

and of all time holding us close

until there is nothing left to say

but hallelujah.

words i’ve said,

stories i’ve heard.

i will take a breath and whisper

the quiet hallelujah.