I like to put my ear to the ground

and listen to the earth groan

The whispers of shinra bansho

of everything in the world, the universe,

tilting, growing, murmuring, dying,

a pin pokes a hole to let in the light,

flooding the space with bars of silver,

silver lines of transparent ideas, swimming

in the lost worlds of the myriad of planets

traveling the darkly lit heavens,

heavenly bodies made of nothing more

than your beauty and my mind,

scattered thoughts consolidating, shaping,

into more than a concept; an emotion

of warmth, gathering up the world into

a single pure sound.