Friday, March 19, 2010

Connections {or tying up loose ends}

Music . . . spiritual

I could float on the melody
   it has the strength to hold me up . . .
        to lift high my flagging soul
                   . . .when my wings droop                                                                
                             and I can no longer fly . . .
                                             it is there to give
            me lift,
from the depths
of the fathomless black canyons of the ocean floor. . . 
                                                                                                       again I fly

                                                               I could swim in the music. . .
a liquid cloud of
brilliant cerulean . . .                                
waters ripple around me . . .
                      warming my heart    
cradling me
                                                       in the strong arms of the briny waters
and when my heart breaks
                             a sweet kiss to heal
I am loved . . . .                                                   
I could drown in the melody
                                             I would not resist
the pull of that tide . . . .
down, down into the depths I fall                                                     
swirling around as I relax                     
in the azure depths
                                                     - I spread my wings
gently rocking as I descend
                                                                                seeking those like me

I could die in the music                                                                     
amongst the graveyards
                                                            of the deep
the eyes of the sea
               will find me there
                  in the depths
                          of the abyss
and you will find me, too. . .                                                    
        in the fathomless waters of the music . . .
Join me in the spirit of the music
floating in the sea


They hang their faces
close to the ground . . .
pain lingers with sorrow
and lacking the will
there is no smile or joy . . .
their pathways
so convoluted,
tangled and frayed . . .
heart-ache radiates
from them as a blackened
edged cloud
billowing and grasping
around them like a cloak . . .
clinging wetly.

They stand like statues . . .
heads hanging, fear
licking their faces,
flickering like a distant
electric pulsations
bend them into a
weariness, a solitude . . .
destructive to human joy;
reducing human endeavors
to mere survival,
  nothing more.

I see them standing
on the street corners
walking . . .
I see them in the darkness . . .
in the darkness shrouding,
shoulders drooping
weighted, dragging,
I see them sighing . . .
frosted breath
heartbeat waiting
I see pain.

I stop to throw a life-line . . .
a smile,
a prayer,
a look,
the line
dropping . . .
laying on the ground
unnoticed . . .

I walk on. . .


To my friend . . .

you know who you are,
you are the man who wished on a star
in the black of the night
too far away
yet it singed your heart . . .
and burned your eyes . . .
and your dreams fore-told a millennia ago
lost their way as you wandered
lonely and adrift
amongst your own ruins . . .
and your pain
too great for you to bear
is a wound held by another
as a golden key
to be treasured as a memory
for your deep soul.
You . . . surrounded by the cries of the damned
from your lonely plains
refusing the pathways
open to more stable grounds. . .
is there a lostness more profound?
your songs are more than I can bear
I dream for you my friend
I dream and yet I too am singed
by that star and fear
that I am too weak to hold your hand
and guide you toward that stable place.

Together though perhaps
together we will find the way . . .


The little boys
were dancing in the cafeteria
the other day
                                        their faces alight
their silly child's laughter
                                put a reflection in my heart
and I promised to record their art                                     
                   But the music was lacking
                                                         except through
                                                                                                     our inner ears . . .
                          we heard the song
the music of the spheres                                           
we danced
                               to the music
                                                                      of the universe . . .
star dust being part of our beings
                                            but losing the melody's beauty
in the flatness of the movie
                     the advantage was in
                      being there
feeling the vibrations 
of the cosmos                                                         
                          in the air                          
                        of the cafeteria. . . 


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