When I think, the universe begins to make sense.
When I speak, the world listens.
The universe is so attuned to my tones
that even the depths of the oceans
hear my heartbeats,
and all the clocks align themselves
to my rhythm, to my pulse.
Everyone craves what I desire.
Everyone burns with the fire
that fuels my passion.
The same surge of thirst
parching my lips
drains the deserts dry.
I am the rain for every garden,
the flood of summer fruits.
Without my watchful eye, no flower blooms.
Without my hand watch, no train is on time.
Without my swollen chest,
the craw of my guitar,
without my breath swelling the air,
no serenade is ever sung.
Without my gullet,
no bird would ever sing.
I have never been merely me.
The "I" is but a distraction.
I have been everywhere, everyone,
all at once,
in the omnipresence of timelessness—
fractured into individuals,
into now.
