The Only Music
- Aug 22
- 1 min read
Today I am a smooth stone
in a high mountain stream
I make music
as I surrender
to the water,
to the rush of the melt
the clack
clack
clack
as I dance and roll and scrape
with others like me.
we, who were once the mountain
the rhythm of our re-membering
builds as our resistance yields,
the melody arises from our breaking.
Our repeated chorus is of falling apart.
No mountain is a single thing
it grows by collapsing
its vibrancy is its destruction
no human being is alive AND unbroken
the only music
is the symphony of disintegration
you are not a museum piece
that you should sit under glass,
protected from the elements
you are not made for silence