Land without music



Some things are everywhere
like drawing and carving
folktales and pottery



There is ground
there is sky
over here
and over there



If I went far away
and said to the people I met:
Look!
With my finger
I make a picture
in the sand
They would smile
and say,
Yes,
we do that too



Fire and make-up
is like air and water
in the places of the world



But there is a land
without music,
where sound is scoured
and pale



Though seeds are planted
and singers arrive
their songs shrivel on the shore
and music will not grow



It has been a long time now
and still they say
draw us a picture
of this "music"

 

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