The Muse and the Maestro

Before there were den gods and this was that

When none could wake and all would deathless rest

The hum or buzz, the mist of breath would plait

A single thing would plan their great egress

Vibrato low, a pulse of rhapsody

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Prime deific sound, the thrumming pump so great

Is the humming drums of Ped’nryth's heartbeat

And so commence the marching line of fate

Ped’nryth would pound upon their drum to which

Muse and Maestro from emergent clearings

His lips on her, each kiss a star and stitch

To map her skin the space between love's wings

Constellations rise, form the sky at night

Hidden by Kesh as part of our contrite

From "Dallathvos and other Stanzas" by Saint Tomevel Raleigh the Suitable