Baller

I twist my thoughts into a silver ball
And throw it at the sky, hoping the stars
Will catch them. They inevitably fall
And that sad knowledge desperately mars
The hope I place in them. And yet the sky
Refuses to allow me such despair;
It calls to me again and bids me try
Forevermore to think into the air.
I listen to the music that one hears
In silent meditation all alone,
Not generated from the crystal sphere
But in a trance that I may call my own.
And hearing it, I reach into my mind
And hurl again the thoughts that there I find.