Pend d’Oreille, remember the time Before time when in the womb Of your mother Lake Missoula You heard her tell of the upheaval That violently birthed these mountains; When horizontal layers of rock Instantly pitched to angles That today disorient my eye; Appearing to fall directly Into their own reflection. Earth’s Listener, Oreille, the Ear. Hearing the Idea of Man You patiently waited for the Word To emerge from the ghostless silence. You’ve overheard conversations Between the circling planets; Been witness to Io pleading With Jupiter to tease Saturn, While Europa cowered in fear Safely in her father’s shadow. Recently, I saw you dancing With the moon to music you heard Played by a distant galaxy. Pend d’Oreille, I’ve tried to listen Through this omnipresent noise For the Voice of the Universe. Please, teach me to Hear what you Hear.