Imagine if you will, seated
by a fire, before word’s advent,
when imitation an entertainment,
creativity flickered in eyes
that followed sparks.
In the night, who can say
what went through minds
when a child was lost, wandered
from the tribe, first a silence felt,
then a cry sent a tone aloft; voice
more than resonance alone.
A calling to inspire vocals,
orchestrated to promote
the subconscious mind, driven
with no real diction except loss.
Lyrics to lead a lost one
back into the arms of a mother,
her relief becoming a catalyst;
the plains without melody
no longer the only silence of stars.
* Collaboration between myself and Sugarmuser.
