An Ode to Ringtones

By the seaside, the cosmic

chimes calling home the night owls,

those feathered scholars of centaur

tutelage.

***

The nocturnal birds study the stars.

The constellations

are a circuit in the sky, a circuit

of crystals and waves. The particles

twinkle. They sound like

bending bamboo in a stream.

Radiating ripples from the heavens,

the supernovas, the white dwarves,

all the beacons of the cosmos

signaling

some mystery

about a summit

we no longer know.

This summit

with

a hillside covered in silk.

Where the bamboo grows tall.

And the Sencha tea flows

as a curving river.

This summit

we don't know.

***

Playtime for the celestial owls,

writing their scrolls and waiting

for us to rise and go beyond

our stargazing. Rise above

our classic understandings.

Circles pulsating at night:

a chord of sharp keys resonating:

it's a gospel in synth. The aurora,

a songstress at her apex, she rings the chimes

to call you to the seaside.

Study the ocean waves;

study the star that misbehaves.