No reason my heart ought beat
No logic

Save you, who saves me

From nothingness, thinks me something
From absence, brings me present

No reason, no logic
But perfect sense


It is an unexpected hour 
Not too late
Not too early
Enough light so that we can still hear
So go back and look again
Do you see the soft shadows asking 
Don’t disengage 
Do you feel the air giving 
Reasons to stand


This will be a song
Written slowly with red
On parchment scroll 
In an ancient language
For a foreign instrument
By the blind forced to see
In the dark

This will resonate 
From the hammer, anvil and stirrup
To the prefrontal cortex 
Ending with the heart
For some
And for others 
Those fleeted fifty-two bones