The first man who wrangled the sound within his cries

The first man who wrangled the sound within his cries
into a syllabic verse is quite like the cowboy
that reins a bronco. I am now rewriting the verse
of the rishis and rivers, ladybugs and dragonflies,

the lizards that eat mosquitoes. A broad zeitgeist
wanders about me, is this warbling context
giving a meaning to sounds. I remember listening
to her quiet purrs, imagining that she's a cat

that sleeps in the window. How can I describe the sky
with words? How can I sing about her beautiful
weeping and moaning and do it justice? We can't

contain the infinite! Look at how the songs are
bursting at their boundaries, see how the vowels
express their consonants and make sense of love.