Once, all at once, I saw it all

When I listen to the world,
besides the never ending ringing in my ears
and the air vents vibrating the room
and my dog having a dream
and the microwave telling my mother her leftovers are done
and the cuckoo clock ticking in the front hall
and my fingers plunking away and scratching my chest
and the air rushing in my lungs and out
and the birds outside the window
and all the other noises these sounds are drowning out:
is it silent? No. The world is not silent.
The world is telling us what needs doing, all the time.
Learn, and Listen
with ears
with eyes
with closed mouths
with open mouths--
the music of it all,

the cacophony. The dissonant humming
making its way
in through our ear canals
up into our brains and
down into our hearts
where it echoes like lost love
as it grieves its own death
and rejoices in its new birth.

Once, all at once,
I saw it all.
All at once.
Crying and laughing and crying and laughing
louder and louder against
the wind and the darkening clouds while the ground gets ready
the tide creeping up carrying messages from the deep sea
the moonrise a year in the making:
the empty moon, blacked out and hollow like
an empy heart
ready to be filled.

That is how the world answers me
when I ask
What do you need?
Your heart.
Your heart.
Your heart.