heard, <br />without definition, <br />without concepts, <br />by ears stripped of fear. <br />in sacred nakedness, <br />rhyming, <br />the rhythm of breath... <br />footsteps to stillness, <br />and a silence, <br />that has no identity, <br />that is not owned, <br />that cannot be captured, <br />or held... <br />that just 'is'!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sounds-for-hune/
