The Orchestra of Tremors
Thomas Leonard Shaw
The earthquake begins suspended
between plate and fault, below
us now the incubation of disaster.
When the first wave beats
against boiling earth, I will scramble
to find you amongst the mad rush.
But when the first wall gives
way, the depth of sound
transforms into a realization of silence.
Screaming your name is negated
by the screaming of other names,
of love multiplied in separation.
To be rendered deaf follows
the pattern of searching and longing,
when voice refutes voice refutes voice.
If ever through the rubble we follow
the patterns of your hand pushing
through the earth, we will ponder
When the world pulls apart its own skin,
you and I will learn the negotiations of sound.