I told him that the music wasn't when

I told him that the music wasn't when
you made a sound, it was when you didn't
act at all. I hear the chimes make noise
as if someone is playing them, I listen

to the clouds like words, I hear her breath
as if it were a god's. O to be the reed
that vibrates in the instrument, to be
the vibrant air that is an orchestration

of something beyond us! We have many words
for words and words for no words, we have lips
that shape our sounds. I told him that a music

isn't written, it belongs to no one
and it's divine. O how she moves about
the room is a sacred and ridiculous song!