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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