Unnamed Soundscape

Sound! Dear angel Sound!
Your trumpet, triumphant
Petals of truth; dripping
anti-lullabies, not a time for

sleep. Ruler over lies
Alpha through Omega
Not only a word.   but

The Word

The key of C
Home, Tonic,
the beginning and end
   (as such things may exist)
emerging, riding bareback
gusts of heavenly wind.

Such piercing voluntaries
held tight and thrust out
soar on the fabric
towards the earth and the mind.

Some upward hear chords;
others bear  left to right  
words       (right to left;
paintbrush and pencil
unmistakable swords.

Roots erupt, plants to grow;
the cougar will feed on blood:
flowing, sweet crystalline river
will sing German art songs.

Erupt! Dear angel Escaped!
Your triumphant trumpet
Beam of the night; inspire light.

-Brian Minnick
May '10