Last night
I looked at bats in the twilight.
Their silent voices
calling to the opening stars,
the cicadas screeching in the trees,
and I listened to music
I could imagine,
hear with the chambers
of my old ears restored.
Life is what is let inside!
I will open the windows again,
and hold up my empty arms,
and perhaps an embrace
will fall from heaven,
and the sea will come back
with its music,
and I can talk in another language,
and take a place
in the kingdom of stars and bats,
and children,
and be myself again.