Om Poem by Patrick Fleskes

The world rattles softly,

Soil only listening,

On the spherical plain,

And the crosshatched, relative plain of time and space,

Concentric circles, cycle Sol, Our neighboring god,

Our natural, perceptual light bulb,

Our energies and fragile pulse, beat 'thanks',

172,800 times a day,

And its sound is circular,

Like these planets and their orbits,

Tune the piano chord,

A perfect E major, began the universe.