Wild bird

in your cage of rib

		        and lung,

I hear you    break

		        into open space

daring

the high and unmarked air

surrounding stone,

	        startling  the dusty film  that settles

                        across the rafters –
untrammelled soprano   reaching above

	        a mesh of voice,

where  human bodies

attuned

play their notes of breath

			           pouring

				               (we were thirsty,

				               dying

				               for want of this)
streams of falling light

			         swoop   and

we ride the textured wave,

braving rapids of prayer –

		         so many hearts’ ancient longings –

trusting to this crafted

			            ship of sound,

its promise of quiet water.