silent soundings

(written on Tuesday, January 29, 2008, at 5:30 am)

He heard a piano playing the melody
without touching a key,
a voice singing the lyric
without sounding a syllable–

the music mounting in concert to make
a symphony of his imaginings
without the vacuity of a hall of mirrors
echoing the glamor of echoes.

Silent soundings of mind in solitude,
like yellow canaries once suffocating below in the dark
now breathing above on wings as a flock in the light,
play a music without intention,
of no use to anyone, not even to him.

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Pietro’s dream

(prompted by reading a portion of the Rigveda
and written on Sunday, December 10, 2006, early in the morning)

Hungering for remedy
Pietro peeled garlic
pulled from ground
his fathers worked before him.

They’d taught him their magic
for feeding themselves,
but he learned
the unspoken hunger
on his own.

Attuned to riddles,
he heard a song one night
the riddle maker of dreams sang:
“I am once center and bounds.
All else but semblance be.”

Pietro longed for attunement’s promise:
new harmonies of cosmos,
when re-semblance replaced discordance
and all ears heard sweet music playing.

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