The multifarious layers of sound,
Advance to my longing ears,
Permeating my soul,
Encapsulating it in an instrumental sphere.
A welcomed overwhelming,
Of senses raw and open.
Patterns visible in my mind,
Meandering geometric tokens.
Internal, immobile swaying,
Sense of coveted calm.
Manufacturing an experience,
Escaping into a comfortable numb.
Letting go has new meaning,
And I welcome the blurred reality,
A gem to hold, cherish, and employ,
Mental pause, Heart focus… Melodic Simplicity.
How would the melody sound,
If I were a song?
Would it be an upbeat, catchy tune?
Would people want to sing along?
Or would it be slow and haunting?
With melancholy laced sustained chords,
That send soft chills down the spine
Invoking thoughts of life’s joy robbing storms?
What would the lyrics be?
What instruments would represent me?
Would the song play on repeat?
Or would it fade into premature finality?
The allure of the slow paced lyrical flow,
Acoustics in imperfect harmony.
Notes collectively scattered,
She tugs at reluctant finger tips,
Bare feet vainly wedged in the sand.
Long white skirt set ablaze in flare,
By the powerful pressing wind.
Resistance only temporary,
There’s inevitable surrender.
But hesitation is necessary,
Prior to intentional misadventure.
The in-between affords time to choose,
The perspective, the interpretive angle.
Yet, attention to the soft pauses,
Requires thought strands to be untangled.
Once given to the music’s pull,
The soulful poetic verbal display,
Fear of loss, transforms into a merging of entities.
The slow acoustic melody has it’s way…