The Jews Harp

if aromatic, can your sound adrift on wings like strings to sing by tongue and some from lighted tops of cloud aloud let fly, let fly o solitary eagle soaring high these aromatic overtones of demon groans to bees abuzz on petal roams and onto tombs of night in flight to morning’s dew harmonic rhythms meditate the late, the new, the cycle through sweet realm of realms, mine avenue and though her breath is my breath too the key, like she, can bloom