Hankering

Stillness

Birdsong decorates your body with trills 
and flutters above you--mountainous
and listening: your breasts, havens
for frantic, pounding hearts.

Engines thrash and churn, cogs catch,
voices howl, chatter, demand:
now now now!     
                            Serene, sufficient unto 
yourself, heart in the streets.

You command our attention by absence,
drape space around you, head in the
clouds. We fall into your lap, your 
wide hips and vast thighs ground us.

Great-grandmother Stillness, hold us and all
our commotion, heart of our hearts.