The Cusp
The Garden
There is a last second of nothingness.
Earth apparently bereft of life, barren,
Until the shoots emerge, imperceptible
And life continues.
The Piano
There is music between the notes.
Anticipation, a momentary tension
Until sound floats, resolved and
The melody continues.
The Bird
There is a moment of stillness
And resolute calm as the bird
Decides to take to the air
And flight continues.
The Soul
There is the briefest of pause.
A whispered breath, a last thought,
A final look, thankful for all that was
As life becomes past.
