music

there is nothing quite like this earth,
this music and symphony, polyphonic
cacophony of vegetal alphabets,
the harmonic phonics of trees that clap
and rain that shushes.
the wind is a conductor of circular rhythms,
one can hear the chorus of air
strumming notes with grassy strings,
water sings wave-like and awash with leaves
falling like scales from branched keys.
even the brave flowers of winter
punctuate this melody, the counterpoint
to a dance that is a step in incremental crescendo,
storms climactic and ecstatic, the acoustic tone
of an atmospheric audience, the audible
breath of this singing earth.