Who can sing his heart?
Garotted by sins long gone
I am a may-fly.

Creek flows ever on,
Yellow blossom drifts downstream.
What is permenance?

A snake sheds his skin.
A man sheds his face the same;
No pearl is alike.

A dream is a fish:
Whole life spent in murky depths
In search of context.

The sea seems a mood.
Only asleep do I swim,
When awake, I drown.

My bones are the shore:
Skeleton of vibrant ghosts
Lapping sorrow's tide.

A drum un-beaten
Is a life unlived. In spring,
The woodpecker cries.

Consuming the grown,
Spreading hopeful seeds to spring:
A sigh is a bird.

My breath was forecast:
The winds are a waterfall,
All the world is wind.

There was an oboe
Who said "Don't follow the score,
Let me sing your heart."