As though a deaf musician, I am part
Of some great orchestra I cannot hear.
The only notes that fall upon my ear
Are those which rise unbidden from the heart
And offer teasing glimpses of the art
Of harmony. Yet have I heard, in clear,
Still moments of perception, what appear
As distant drum-beats; pulses that impart
A rhythm to the cosmic melody.
Then, with a quick'ning joy, I see that I
Am moving to creation's symphony.
As birds that wheel and dart across the sky
To secret music, so it seems that we
Can sometimes see the patterns as we fly.
