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.