Recoil of Mystery

The emptiness of sound
inside a bare cavern lair
hides dark in a troubled
soul's perogative there.
In the backward return,
past the future present.

Past breeze parted lips,
a floating quiver on air,
daddy sings tidal eddy.
Pink tongues its cheeky
setting fleshy to aim
blurry music steerage.

Lyrical binds aliveness.
Spirit spikes, a kinetic
crown filling the sound
word after word on words
exhale weirdest blushes
uttering spin in a thrust.

Secrets only soul knows
hear burdens overturned
unruled by thinking choice.
Listening gets conscience
encompassing next strike
to force recoil of mystery.

© 7/28/2004, RJDuberg