Humming silent calmness
The gentle breeze over empty fields
Birds biting their tongues
Stillness in turmoil

Hateful deafening calm
Breath screaming into the wind
Feet covered by the dust coated earth
Uncomfortable by the peace

He never sings in stadiums
There are no curtain calls
He follows his musical heartstrings
That leads him to village halls.
Singing songs for a living
And he'll tell you he wrote a few
His love it is for music
And he is out there singing for you.
He travels around the country
Performing one night stands
He never makes much money
And he hasn't got a band.
He was never there with the big names
They just gave him a little slot
Then he doesn't  care for all that fame
He is happy for all that he has got.
Now he's been around for fifty years
And still doing his same kind of thing
His fans they are still out there
So he thanks them for everything.

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists