You, almost silent

Musical prophecies with rarely discernible words but energies

A self-made metaphor for your life

Speak to me

In a language crafted in the minuscule pause between heartbeats

While I shout




Are the accumulated wealth of my lifetime’s


Laid at your alter of Apollo – hidden out of sight

Sarawati’s appreciation – gilded with insight

Acknowledged in the silence that lets us hear rhythm

The contrasting opposite that creates the  whole

The unbreakable bond that urges us to freedom

And the person that is our spiritual home.




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