Treasures are discovered under rocks
that grow moss and sigh if you turn them
and the insects below scurry
like darts of light in a night sky.
Meteorites I think we can call them
the ones that land and devastate dinosaurs
an inheritance in clouds of dust and flame
Or meteors, which are like greetings for an old friend,
a brief sketch in the heavens above
a line of light and no sound whatsoever…
Across time we sing in our heads
but it is just the same if no sound comes out
we are the little foundlings dragging a bow across the vibration
of our living stories
We are a darkness that shields us from blindness
or the light that interrupts with a morning newscast
but the weather report we find more interesting.
Blue skies and rain.
Thunder rolling like distant heartbeats
across the world’s largest oceans…