Music was made in your eyes
(Stirring heart-rhymes describe
Intricate, silky notes that coax
Benevolent, relaxed meters to
Meander out of time,
Periods of peaks,
Static mountainous displays,
Orchid flowers and fingertips,
Oval-shaped even-numbered tiny fireflies
Escape into daylight.
Lazy lines unknown moment to moment.
Unspeakable rhythms just unfold
Just because. No memory and not even
Time, in the long, loose
Bubble of the evening, amidst
The smoky forms of undeciphered ideas
In the secret language spoken between
The creek, the pebbles, the roots, the wing.
A skysong sparkleblue unloosens,
Unwinding itself down the path
Of perfumed ferns, to nestle
Within the heart’s whisper-sounds,
To resound to the depths of the forest),
Just before the stars came out,
To sing the wandering sunshine to sleep.
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