Soft Speaking Voices

In thoughts we are speaking
Though speaking is nothing

But sound solid streaming
As in there in organs

And out there and in there
While breath is a whistle

A whistle you suck on
Forgetting the whistle

A thought reappearing
Both markings of heaven

While whistle breathes inward
The truth comes to say

Forever could children
Be inbreathers dimly

Bewildered they are
Without certain hollows

And full of soft voices
Remarkably vivid

The dreamings of children
Where thoughts bear them dreamward

The whistle in heaven
Not heaven them


Bobby Larsson

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