The Song
There is music
That runs through me
Sometimes pizzicato
Sometime adagio
Sometimes harmonic
And then dissonant.
How about you?
Do you feel the stars
Vibrating
To a sweeping unheard symphony
Resonating inside and out?
Do you feel the thump
Of bass
As God’s low-rider,
Windows down,
Makes life jump for joy?
So why do you hear
That same tune
And tap your toe
In synch with me,
And the others
I love
Do not?
I sing alone,
But not alone at all.
I sing with you
Wherever we find ourselves
Under the same
Shimmering sun
Vibrating stars.
That runs through me
Sometimes pizzicato
Sometime adagio
Sometimes harmonic
And then dissonant.
How about you?
Do you feel the stars
Vibrating
To a sweeping unheard symphony
Resonating inside and out?
Do you feel the thump
Of bass
As God’s low-rider,
Windows down,
Makes life jump for joy?
So why do you hear
That same tune
And tap your toe
In synch with me,
And the others
I love
Do not?
I sing alone,
But not alone at all.
I sing with you
Wherever we find ourselves
Under the same
Shimmering sun
Vibrating stars.
Labels: poetry homeless Seattle
1 Comments:
Thanks for letting me indulge myself. I have other poems, if you send me your email . . .
Rick
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