Panicking Gong

usual bag won’t hold the usual weight

yours need mine as mine do yours

what’s that sound only your ears can make

every tongue is tumbling toward

panicking gong, still singing along

blowing off in the high reeds

dreams dream of dreaming you and i

buried mountain on a mustard seed

the ground believes the question on the sky

dug up bugs, dug up streams

in between what’s underneath

our wild flowers, wild geese

old answers, lost teeth

of the panicking gong