The Song
I hear it on cold clear nights -
the singing.
A vast distance vibrating,
as if violin strings were being stretched,
to reach inside my head,
and there they play long extended notes,
resonating in unhurried slow pitched motion.
Yet there are harmonics,
rhythmic pulses and variations.
A cosmic orchestration not of this earth,
nor of any other world,
but a pure Consciousness.
reaching out and inwards.
If when listening, I go into my silence,
I then know, beyond any doubt,
that it is I,
none other than my own infinite mind
that calls to me.
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