We cast our spells by way of words --
 Each sound, sacred. Its magic blurred
 By mundane ways and untrained ears --
 Failure to feel one's way to tears.

So, we're lost upon silent seas
 Even when one could hear with ease:
 Because boundless is speech's spread,
 And boundless, still, within one's head.

Some seek their way to the magic
 By means that are truly tragic,
 When all they really need to do
 Is listen as it passes through.