Counting the links on a chain,
One gold circle at a time,
The time flooding past, molten
Like the gold that made the links.
A spider weaving her web,
Each leg moving faster than the fly
Who winds herself up, tangled deep
In the gossamer threads I wove.
A mineral compacted in the earth,
Profound resilience proved when hammers
Hit the hard exterior, calling forth a chime
That resounds in my crystalline body.
The silence inside silence,
An absence of sound that vibrates with the note
Unspoken, the word unsaid,
Silence that silences itself.