Sometimes I stop to listen Tune my ear to the humming between everything The seed and the sun A blade of rain and the black of the ocean Life wants to live itself So lean in And if you're gentle, a rhythm might emerge Form in the formless Silence, drumming, howling Desire is asking us to dance But it isn't easy to let go Our stories domesticate us We suspect cruelty behind the eyes of the kind And dissect the archaeology of our own imaginations On these maps, there is no room for miracles Yet still, somehow you know its possible Harvest, tears, spring In the embers of a fire, all of a sudden, there it is I remember as I finally hear it Society is just a clearing in the forest The flames begin to whisper with the wind And this time, I believe them