Music: A poem 

I listen to the lyrics  

on the radio 

It layers me like bricks 

and makes me feel so 

sublime; words can bring 

relief. 

Most times, I sing 

in belief 

Yet, we are trapped in language 

It gives us gauge 

but has its limits 

for, every word doesn’t fit 

I think, animals have telepathy 

They don’t need words to hear and see 

They have the blessing of astuteness 

of enlightenment in muteness 

…That eating the apple 

only gifted us the superficial 

We are not rounded creatures 

rather squares with ruptures  

And it dawns on me 

that animals always had music 

always the burning wick 

It was God’s writ 

Unlike us, they didn’t have to invent it