The Link II

Sine wave
radio wave
wave that curls the shore
we are all
tangential to ourselves
the right hand pours
left hand catches
softens, wanting more
of cataracts and cauldrons,
curve and gain,
filling up with loss and drain,
the sinuous thing
rippling
endless streamers at the shore
snake both high and low
outwith our time but
underpinning
all we do
and all we know of silence and its eyes.
It is the evermore
the movement evertrue,
everwise,
each scale at nought beginning
a tail that circles zero
blind mouth that never cries.

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