hang time

writing from 7/20/2012

Morning stillness.  The wind carries nothing.  Chirps hang in the air until they drop —

Turning into whipped cream on their way to my ears.

I want the wind back.  Desperately wish it here. 

But it’s gone —


So I create in stillness, with the memory of the wind.

I write in the silence that is the low hanging window of time that could be day or night —

Words dangling like leaves from the branch of life.

So close, so studious in the light —

A warble away.

A flicker in empty space.

We rest together in hang time.

Author: Julie Ann Stevens

My art flows from the patterns & paths of my lived experience which ⏤ like yours ⏤ are at once deeply personal and entirely universal.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.