the silicon and golden circuits catch our tones and echo back

The symphony is shared

our instruments,  antiques from another era;

their electronic accompaniment 

I wake early,  even before the machines remind us to rise

scan the screens for meteors and satellites

then begin the music

Some morning Wagner,  sometimes it is McCartney

at first I thought I was dreaming

another hallucination after hypersleep

Now I know it is real--  the notes I send out

and those that circle back to us 

a kaleidoscope of sounds from who knows where

I no longer wonder who is playing along 

I don't tell a soul 

^{thanks to Auspice for the magical title}