Letting The Sound Breathe
I look for a spot to jump on,
waiting, time passing,
the moments seem all to blend with one another,
while alone I do wait,
I wonder about where it is I might find the right note,
is it that final drawn octave, carries my soul,
allows me to imagine I am in the heavens,
drifting beyond the scorn of nature’s wrath,
a part of the grace and wonder of time,
a virtual cacophony of desired elements in love …
I do love to listen to violins,
the harmonic convergence of their essential oils, strings, resonate
upon which we allow our lives to grasp
the inner soul of our wisdom drawn from sound.
It is when I imagine a valley, and deep below just in my sight,
is she there walking, perhaps waiting,
in another dream leaving my world,
for another adventure, though when I draw close,
the strings seem to speak to the horrific nature of letting go,
and I do run with the adagios of life’s meant travel.
There is a place in my mind, that an occasional sound,
a combination of instrumental design, an orgasmic display of
the very nature of my own compelling need
to recognize her soft skin,
as fingertips play the long sinewy arms of passion,
I will rest upon my shoulder her sweet sound.
,and be forever grateful to know beauty.