Finethreads

Which is beyond
words is present here
in the twilight, the secret

not to know yet
how it will continue
but to feel the net

coming together in me --
invisible connections
to the heartbeats of life

In wordless language
the breathing of the pipes
conquers space from the silence

in gentle waves and then by itself
nothingness has become music --
new webs of finethreads

between sense cores
of souls once and somewhere
in confluent time