Sakamoto’s Seeds

The keys of Sakamoto
Flutter with the moments
Each passing chance

Graced with a hint of melody

Enough to tug at strings

Not yet formed.

The notes are his seeds

Palms scattering

Tossing to even the driest of soils

Now we wait

For the tear drops to nurture

Hoping that these notes

Are able to make us grow.
His keys

Unlock the windows

To grant us vision

Into the twilight

Pulsing stars whisper

To the passing meteor

As it treads

The frequent wavelengths.


I wonder

If he knows

The worlds he’s created.

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