Just listen,
listen to the
music.
fall into the
silence of the un-struck notes.
turn off the
tube, the whirr of the fridge.
they are eating
the world.
The low hum of
computer fans,
the chatter of
printers borrowing into the mind,
the chirp of
electronic phones.
turn them all
off!
Is it quiet yet?
stop breathe listen,
listen to the music.
The lazy buzz of
a fly following
the warmth of oak leaves
passes into the cool breeze rustle of the
shade.
the earth is moving
to a
sway of yellow notes.
The tick of a
clock measuring
out our lives
the creaking
bones of the house
as it cools, passing into
the shade of clouds moving across the sun.
Just listen,
listen to the
music.
music not
defined by notes
but by the space between them.
Down deep in
there,
down into the
center of the earth,
who plays that
flute there?
who is that
re-creating the world
in each moment?
maybe it is just the song that we are.
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