Wednesday, June 27, 2007

an old friend

lift the colors from their hiding place
open up, world!
to awaken the joy
it resides: therein
the breath now lighter, airborne, free
as music notes are beckoned to exist
a reminder of love
remainder of truth

my fingers have found their beloved friends, ivory and black, and my foot has been reunited with gold to sustain and blend sound. so beautiful a thing- to sit in a quiet and cool sanctuary, playing in solitude, while quite remiss of all sense of time.