I last performed a hearty hub
to background sounds of a country pub,
those noisy vets, yet how I roared,
my stance so solid and assured.
My voice was neither fast or shy,
for two whole hours i was truly I.
But where were you that dauntless night?
Hunkered low in pain or fright?
Holed up in trouble, clothed in fear?
The mirror twists and you appear.
And so we two performed as one,
for loathing will not silence song,
beaten low – as silver snakes,
thrown – soaring birds, or what it takes.
Work with me in meditation,
hear my voice in contemplation;
we’ll rise and leap and crest and fly,
til you are You and i am I.