A poem by the Dutch poet C.O. Jellema

MUSIC

Music: winter through windows open wide.

You hear the cold-held stars ring out so clear

as if they – thinking you – sped each light-year:

your ending, their beginning coincide.

Dispatched is what moved here, however small,

as cosmic image – but do eyes gaze there?

This hand has also, writing, moved through air,

in words devised a host of stars, starfall.