Inni – Sigur Ros

If I could transcribe the startled steps of a doe
crossing the splintered ice of spring,

if I could sit you beneath an avalanche
and not lose grip of your hand,

if I could conjure the howl of wind
on mountain peaks, or the murmur
of a distant storm, or the hiccup of  water
softly cleaving  a path through your thoughts

if rock could melt
and drown you in a flood of particles
and heat,

if I sent music
Music That Moves You
to quiver like a tuning fork
or a tired junky,
would you hear it?

Would you hear it any better than you do
in this black and white moment?