at the top of the world

today
i heard the most beautiful song
in the world,

a melody that shivers
with wind chimes and hummingbirds.
you could hear the echo
from a thousand miles away,
greek beaches and italian villas alike.

a moan escaped my lips;
it was the purity of rhythm
that tickled my ears
and took me away to that safe place
across the river

and through the woods.
i could sing your song
at the top of the world,

and no mountain could drown out
that melody,
that ghost of a tune

that could play on radios
around the world.
but you reside in icelandic landscapes instead,

soaking your guitar
in wet reverb and fingering.

you could use lyrics,
but your mind is so full of music
and your heart is burdened by the weep

of a violin,
the hiss of a snare.
words do not have to be spoken
to be heard,

and your message is loud and clear.

in the field i lay,
the world sprinkled around me
like fairy dust.

i turn you on
and drift to a place i like to call

home.