Bow to the birds

And what will emerge next,
and what is emerging now?

Out of the silence, out of this,
a bird song, a blackbird song,
emerges over there, from a tree.

My breath emerges,
a tickle on my shoulder,
a gurgle in my guts,
and what will emerge next?

Out of the silence, out of this,
a bird song, trebles and trills,
all their own, only experienceable,
let it go on, let it not end.

It will end, it is always here;
thoughts are emerging in me,
my enemies arise in my head,
we fight, I unmask and love them.

Out of the silence, out of all this,
a bird song, piercingly sweet,
loud in my being,
my wonderful ears.

A low sound emerges in the distance,
grows louder and louder, a shudder in me,
a gust of wind in the trees passes over,
wanders on in the world.

Out of the silence, out of all this.

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