Somewhere on the edge of an event horizon
Beyond the Oort Cloud, beyond comprehension
At near absolute zero, almost nonexistent
So thin as to be barely there, a photon wide
Pulsing with an amplitude a million lightyears wide
Like the first rays of a long dead star
Piercing the atmosphere of a rouge system
So fine, a whisper that is only just heard
A pin drop at the beginning of time
A note, an utterance, a murmur
That’s never heard but by those awake in the small hours
Behind the hum of existence, under the breath
Of wind, the crackle of static, the magnetic resonance
Of radioactive earth
A ripple of language in a pool of endless night
I hear it, I feel it, hiding like death
Like dark matter, like tiny gravity
I feel it, it is there
Undeniably, a minute valence
True as a mite, as a tremor, as a nip
Like a fault, a glitch
It speaks a wordless language
That imperceptibly names
The thing that we all know
That strikes a cosmic chord
That rhymes like the Word
That shakes you awake at night
And speaks below it all
In a single sound
Of knowing