Listen: that is air;
                   that is birdsong;
                              the total weightlessness
of freedom without consequence
felt not even in the moment before
it flees, but once its residue breathes
a small signal, whispering, "Listen!"

Now hear: that is mind;
                            second self;
                                   the Thing that chides cautiously,
"Life is an intricate system of Dominoes,
             and you are as the first block in the series.
                        No sweet moment goes unnoticed by the universe."

--and I am eternally at the ready
to invite some awful Punishment
into my world, should I choose
this small happiness.  Ah,
is that what you'd have me believe?

The air is too cool, the birdsong
too bright, and the streets
too clean and white that I might
ere long make my leave.  Not yet,
not yet.

Listen, voice,
           Listen, psyche,
                       Listen, Thing: today, I take no heed of you!