I hear the primal phonon’s hum deep in the superconscient womb:
Outcurving into the region of Sound I chant the glory of the Name,
Incurving I am the Silence poised on wings of eternal seeing;
I’ve become a Bird of Fire zooming on breath of my own Shadow.

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She sang beyond the genius of the sea.
The water never formed to mind or voice,
Like a body wholly body, fluttering
Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion
Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry,
That was not ours although we understood,
Inhuman, of the veritable ocean.

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