I would gladly put it to music
and sing it to you (if only I could).
But I can’t.
I heard it once
somewhere between the finite
mathematics of harmony
and the inescapable
possibilities of loneliness.
I heard it in the sad music
of solitary whales
swimming in the North Atlantic-
and recognized the voice
of my own soul, swimming also
somewhere in the dark,
in the cold,
under the implacable pull of the moon.
isolation
