Seeing the bones of feelings,
tasting the heights and depths,
the nearness and the distance,
the far and the near.

For a while,
wandering through the forest,
lost within its silence,
singing with the trees
and letting tears flow
into the streams.

Let the words from these bones
grow wings
and fly to the highest sky.

For a while, wondering through skyscrapers, lost within its streets of gold, singing with the signs, and letting winds flow into the music.

Seeing the bones of souls, tasting the quality and degree of interval in scale, and rhythm flow into hearts.

Let this communion
flutter softly upon our tears
and find its way
into the waiting hearts
of other poets.

Ah, seeing the music on your eyes.