A Collection of Whites
Here I turned a poem I wrote into a piece of music with accompanying visuals.
An unveiling of a collection of whites
two rivers already full, narrowing at a brook
these in themselves offering up
an even more direct concentration of energy
held support by their own rosy apples.
All things joined by the same dust
that was once a sound
and was twice a thought
but is now just a feeling of a knowing
of a right that was never wrong
and of days and nights that however
busy or calm
could never be too long.