The stars have had their meetings silently

The stars have had their meetings silently
in the shade of river oaks. I hear music
coming from the hidden nests, the blue birds
lay eggs and the vowels move within verse

like acorns in the soil. I've watered the tree
with a song, the stars have had their meetings
in another language. There are no minutes
nor hours in their truth. I hear the music

coming from the disclosed homes of angels
and deities. The sirens sing and the muses
expose themselves ludicrously. The stars have

the character of remembrance. I hear music
coming from her heart, the words and names
of a practice that can improve attitudes.