Constant hum fills my ears,
Like a gigantic sound system
Popping into life.

It only happens to me seldom,
When one of them pass by.

You can tell it's
One of them by the
Smell,
like a crispy rain in Autumn or a fresh, inviting snow,
A smell that drives you wild,
Makes you feel two-days-old.

It makes the world fall into order,
Makes it seem so simply clear,
Makes you wish you won't grow older,
Makes you see the days are dear.

And after the hum, sometimes,
Comes the plucking of my strings,
Some sounds might come out distorted but it's music
To all ears.

And the hands,
The hands,
The hands that pluck me, feel me,
Feed me,
The gentle hands that wrap around me,
Oh, these hands are my entire Universe.
This embryo of sanctuary contained inside those hands,
Is all there is for me, and the last place I ever want to
be.