Can white light be played like piano keys or plucked like inter stellar strings to harp out in time to the bass beat of black holes?

Do they pump black matter?

Does the sun send out shots of sound to those ears that can hear? Do the suns spin planets on their turntables, twisting sound through the circles?

Does the galaxy spin sound through its circles?

Do the atoms spin sound through their shells?

If you hold hydrogen to your ear can you hear the sea? Can you hear the waves?

Suddenly a flare hits a high C with a starburst but the note is cooled down on the outer reach.

Getting lost in the ellipse as the wood and the brass and the drums fade in.

Simply synching their break beats, trying to reach the whole, trying to play galaxa-phones on the fire escapes of God’s soul.

Because light is sound.

Sound is light and the sun stuffs notes with helium and let’s them go.

Lord let them soar they’re to fly not to fly.

And they’re sending out shot outs from shooting stars which say look up. Look up and listen.  

And the tiny dwarf stars kick out the high notes and the massive supernova giants take the meso soprano roles. Gotta get the song finished before the star explodes.

But everything’s expanding away from everything else and it’s getting hard to hear.

The sounds getting lost in the dark, loosing the solar rhythm that makes the party spark. It all got kinda cluttered and it all got kinda jarred.

Storm tossed.

And you think maybe it’s over, maybe the bests been and gone, maybe we were never meant to hear the whole song.

But just as everything reaches the brink, one inch from one inch too far, in the centre of the centre of the centre of everything a conductor steps in.

And he doth teach the torches to burn bright.

And gathers the light together in the night.

So he taps once, taps twice and the starlight holds its breath.

And the black hole bass stops pumping

And the turntable stops turning for a second,

For a millisecond, for a fraction of a fraction of a fractal it freezes.

And with practised ease, as though he’s done this all before, the conductor gives a flick

And everything comes together,

And everything’s in time,

And the universe sang the whole song before it died.