Some people throw bones,
or tea leaves
some splash paint
or make collages
to rearrange what they have found so far.
Some think they need a medium
or another person’s power
to access the deep voices.
Some throw words at a page
to see what sticks,
some let themselves dance.
The forms are infinite
and come second;
the first is the empty buzz,
the universal vibration
waiting for your trust
so it can find random expression.