the great song has no lyrics
always starts within the great hall of tears
has a sound register in heart range descending
is initially heard at a great distance
from within yet appears to be from afar
from the encompassing surround
alters the nature of gravity felt
ends boundary-ness as evident
played on an instrument resonating as us
that somehow becomes itself of being
takes up the cause, chorus and all
but has no particulars or concern
spreads the wealth of existence
is easy on the share of spirit
lingers as if hummed all day long
without mindful interruption
we are all those songwriters
as well as the musicians
blessed with us, as the instruments . . .
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