transmit

playing with the pipes of pan
measuring the pitching span

that tilts and spins around the heart
and counts the beats as song departs

in search of ears attuned and primed
for what is riding on the chimes,

a signal or a hidden word
that resonates though its unheard

in the hearts and ears nearby.
as delicate as fire that flies,

the heat you feel and light you see
obscure the hidden remedy

for all that ails the heart and ears
panacea for all tears
arising from departed love,
and still leaves clouds of doubt above

overarching
dream and wish
making small talk seem remiss
from the task of
finding bliss

deep within beloved hearts
a gift of lovers' ceaseless art

recieved from sails on all four winds
what space has severed union mends.
. . .
copyright Peter Asher Watts 2003