Through beams of wood, light reaches for silver souls afloat.
A single breeze, a reverberation from the other layer of time,
Air dancing to the melody of ghosts across skin,
Just brushing the nerves, barely greeting,
Carrying wisdom and peace of its muses,
Air breathes me in,
Filling its lungs with my world,
Depriving me of that which steals me
And muddles me within my layer,
The false layer that I cannot see
Until I see the other. We trade for a moment,
The chimes and I,
Their feet absorb gravity and the sun lifts me
Until the cicadas disappear
And there is a melody
In the chaos.