Given to whimsical fancies,
Immersed in the realm of the limitless.
Led by innate passion,
Pulled, never pushed.
Upon toes which propel
Her graceful form to heaven.
Embraced by floral perfume,
Laced with poetic expression.
Woven dreams, intertwined desires,
A willing captive to all, and to none.
Sheltered by each moment in dance,
Heartbeat united with song.
She is the dance.
The dance is she.
The same entity.
The symphony shifts
From light to dark
Natures instruments are exchanged
New players come out
In harmonic unity
Day to night, few notes the same
Some of the birds
Ride out the transition
Maintaining their flutes a while
But the night owls asserts
Their nocturnal superiority
And cry heavy above their delicate style
Crickets chirp with vigor
Piercing and steady
In a dominating rhythm
While the resting await the dawn
To reignite day’s songs
And so goes symphonic repetition
Shallowly below the surface
Water gently swaying from movement
Liquid veil covers surrendered ears
Altering, yet not tainting the music
Piano keys stroked with care
Gentle runs, emphasis upon each note
Volume increasing, tempo slows
All heard as echoes under watery cloak
Stairway from heaven,
Upon ivory keys.
Delivering healing notes,
To a world in need.
Awaiting human touch,
A heavenly connection.
Access to God’s presence,
And His melodious perfection.
Stairway to heaven,
Upon ivory keys.
A fluid stream where spirit dances,
And soul receives.
Enveloped by Gods love in harmony,
With the hurting under oppression.
A concerto with angelic orchestra,
Creating sound which defies comprehension…
Play chopsticks with me
Let’s make music together
Memories we’ll share
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.
I sometimes feel free, in an otherworldly pull,
A drag into slow motion.
Lifted from that which surrounds,
Connected to all that is.
Eyes seeking to remain closed,
Dreaming awake in full consciousness.
A pull I sometimes seek to maintain,
To merge, lean into with surrender.
Thoughts on pause, mind now filled with still light.
Peace…dare I imply?
Serene in a suspended moment?
So sweet, dry tears drift slowly by…
Lifting me, transcending.
Insides soft and electric, aware of my presence,
A way to be high without chemical interference.
The music stops.
I close my eyes and I’m transported,
As was the case when I was a child.
When my modest music box collection grew,
Each additional delight, offering new smiles.
I listened to cassette tapes with recorded tracks,
In a Walkman and a boom box.
I loved the soothing beauty, enchanting sounds,
I adored the entrancing moving parts.
Joy conceived metal to metal,
Pins activating a steel combs’ teeth.
I never knew how it worked back then,
It was simply magic, to me.
The delicate strums I lend ear to,
In today’s far away, adult world.
Reach a piece of my soul,
Reserved long ago, when I was just a girl…
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…