Don’t Remember Writing This (poetry)

Some type of whispering
Waiting for an eternal something
Can’t you hear it?
There are greater things than we can understand
Can’t you hear it?
Perhaps there is more living than one can live in a life
Perhaps all we see is a single number
In an infinite series
To see just one
Makes us a part of the whole
Perhaps we are listening to the whispers
Perhaps we are also the whisperers
Perhaps we are an instrument too
The music we make
We don’t know for what
But we know we make it

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