sensitivity

Reflections on Miles Davis

I think of his eyes – dark pools so sensitive, radiant with droplets of feeling-light, the depth of them in tremulous water, how they seem to ripple inwards as I look into them, as if my heart itself is a ripple in that wide river of receiving, reflecting the sky of me so I can see my vast self for the first time, reflecting things I never saw in my own sky – eyes that hold that note steady, that one note that blows through my heart, all the way through. (more…)