In silence, they dissolve before dawn-
the words my heart was calling.
They are not in the sun,
I can hear the noiseless sound raining down.
Nothing but the white vowels of the wind,
a perfect song is loveless.
The snow is beautiful on the ground.
For still the night through will they come and go,
unerringly toward the same trysting-place,
with iced and darkened flow
on every road I wandered by.
Music, I’ll call it music,
she must have a song at any cost
again and again out of the world’s cold deafness.
This Cento is comprised of lines from the following poets:
Mo H Saidi, Sara Teasdale, Avot Yeshurun, AE Stallings, Miguel Hernandez, Kenneth Patchen, DH Lawrence, Tony Hoagland, Thom Gunn, Philip Levine, Margaret Julia Marks, Graham Foust, Carolyn Wells, AE Houseman, Dabney Stuart