(Evidently) I’ve been silent. No, silence is a smooth lake. I’ve been a *glaire of white noise. Oh, eclipses. I didn’t know about their aftershocks which like depth charges, sound silently under water. (I know, it’s not possible to sound in silence – but allow me this one oxymoron). Okay, so I saw the sound (oxymoron 2). It was of feathers lying on an ocean floor, then disturbed by a black moon plunging like a stone from the upper regions.
But I saw in the end that they were only stones. And I found these others – nine black stones split clean in half. And inside, each a wonderful universe of uniqueness.
And they gave me a wonderful idea. It took my breath away. I haven’t had my breath taken away in such a while I thought doomed to eternal breathfulness.
So the cuckoo is hatched. Well, it is May now, when you hear the cuckoo call.
* Glaire: the white of an egg; albumen