Waking Sounds

You leave the natal warmth of bed

and put on a sweater to deal with the cold.

A familiar voice echoes through thoughts-

you decide you must hear it.


Her voices seeps slowly from the speakers,

a pre-emptive balm for the day.Wordlessly,

a melody rises higher and higher

until you are ready to begin.

A Rhythm That We Found

Hours pass like minutes

as sounds fill the space

between us. Afternoon

becomes evening as we

depart the heart of the city.

As She Wanders The Fields

She wanders the fields in a way that connotes
an otherness and a sense of familiarity.
The wind bends the grasses to its whims
as her hands brush them with her movement.
This distant cradle of reason and civilization
sits silent as its descendants struggle with
the weight of destiny, a fate ordained by the
long count of history.

A Musing On Music

Music is Magic


&


Musicians are Magicians.