Listening To The Arias For An Hour Poem by RIC BASTASA

on this holy hour
he closes his eyes to listen
to the song of his soul

a white bird appears in the
bald mountains of his soul
a song is heard, too lonely
to behold

somewhere in the corner of
his mind is a tree without leaves
where a black bird just hovered
watching carefully

what happens next is the
chasing and the falling of
feathers to the valley of
his heart

he decides which bird must leave
from the garden of his desires
and then the silk sky clears itself
of the debris in this struggle
for peace and harmony to reign again.