I hold my breath by the copper pot
The kitchen air is thick and hot
I watch the steam rise in a white line
I wait for every note to align
Tighten the wire, hold the low drone
Steady the pulse in the marrow bone
A heavy hum in the kettle's heat
Waiting for the rhythm to be complete
I treat the keys like a rare green leaf
A careful touch for a moment brief
The damp dark soil in a clay pot jar
I keep the tuning like a distant star
The brass is muted in the corner shade
A quiet pact that the spirit made
I turn the peg with a steady hand
The softest sound in a lonely land
Tighten the wire, hold the low drone
Steady the pulse in the marrow bone
A heavy hum in the kettle's heat
Waiting for the rhythm to be complete
Monstera vines on the window sill
The ticking clock is suddenly still
I feel the tension in the silver string
I wait for the heavy metal to sing
The water boils with a sudden hiss
A perfect chord that I cannot miss
I lock the frequency in the room
A golden flower in a sudden bloom
Tighten the wire, hold the low drone
Steady the pulse in the marrow bone
A heavy hum in the kettle's heat
Waiting for the rhythm to be complete
The hum, the hum. Pure and deep.
Steady now.
