Five strikes of the clave:
what lies in between?

Five fingers grasp the moment
cleaving space under the will.

The art of combining sounds, and these against time;
the sculpting of boundless silence,
into hues and shapes, textures and magnitudes.

In the emptiness, the stars pulse with light,
vibrating against the void.

Which grain of sand makes the beach?
Which bond sustains the arch?
Which water droplet rends
the sky with thunder and lightning?

Emptiness, and form,
dance in history’s hall:
no-one is irreplaceable,
yet everyone shares in the song.

Memories and hopes, the warped mirrors
of a possible present, frame the note:
strike, will, ring, shine, clap!

This, too, shall pass:
just a kernel of corn
a whole kernel of corn
to add to the world’s glory.