Tuesday, April 10, 2007

10

The answers are embedded all around,
Carried by us too beneath our skin,
adopted by the plasma of our cells…
… all bubbling up and waiting.

The ancient voices call out to us, awaiting an echo…
yet we fall silent: a chamber without resonance,
a call we fail to repeat…

and I’m desperate to sing now,
dying to make a sound…just a sound…

will anything be heard?

Of course, of course…
nothing is left unsung.

No melody at night is alone…

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