Sunday, December 14, 2025

Gaudete Sunday Valentine

The first music wasn't just the trees
Though they tried to reassemble it
It must have been they who suggested
How to capture it on paper 
Don't you remember that first sound
That solitary mineral vowel
Doesn't it seem symphonic to you now
When you reach back to hear its
Faint echo in your blood
That pulsing muddy sound
Only the earth could utter
In the last minutes of its travail 
How it pleaded and pleaded
And finally that song came down 
 

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