The sky bears witness to noises,
Whispers like the voice in my mind,
Come with quality and sound,
Words to tell on my inner self.
Soft wind has continual blowing,
In the morning, at noon and at night,
Time to give sound to greens,
To provide their day to day growth.
The room is sounding quiet voices,
Ready to dialogue with the owner,
In a contemplative language,
Ready to examine my daily living.
Sometimes I wonder on the unsound,
Voices to disturb my silencing,
But they are ready to give a lesson,
For the restful time into my tiresome.
Shout to the right silent to the left,
Between the midnight in my half death,
I heed news from my hallucination
Singing to give hope, in danger
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