Only A Grain

Music is when sun and earth make love,
the waltz
in between every subsisting form,
on the candle flame
of every sentient mode.

I am only a duet
a music box,
a cosmetic flux.

I am only a grain
waiting to hear the flute to rise
from the six feet under,

a golden grain multiplying,
a violin
surging through a
bow’s endearments,
recognizing the keys of music,

the equilibrium
of the others and within,
their rhythm,
the symmetry of the objects
and their reflection,

the constant substitution of
objects and their reflections!