This isn’t finished, but I thought I’d post it anyhow.
Turn the radio off.
I don’t want to hear
What that singer says about love.
The rain on the roof
Sounds more like my love for you
Than anything some lyricist can capture.
Don’t accompany the ache
In my chest with guitar chords.
This is older than stringed instruments.
It’s deeper than an electric bass.
You can’t record this intensity.
It can’t be played back later, anyway.
A yogi told me
When the universe was first formed
Its first sound was the “Om”
Like you hear in meditation groups.
Maybe that’s what hums through me
Sitting with you while it rains outside.