Everything ultimately comes down to the music

Once thought if I had to sacrifice a sense

Wouldn’t want it to be my eyes

How not to ever see trees and

Birds dark against a cloudy sky

Celestial bodies inviting tidal

Wax and wane on Earth’s stage

Yet, cannot imagine never hearing

Never hearing music again

The promise of music

Is in rock and folk and ethnic

Is in jazz and classical and flamenco

Is in every instrument:

Electric violins, Gypsy violins, Cajun violins

Indian sitars, African drums, Scottish bagpipes

Acoustic and electric guitars, Blue Grass banjos

Tambourines, tablas, castanets, keyboards

The pull of love and sadness

The fullness of heart and soul

No matter one’s age, the promise seduces

Reduces us to panting, hopeful puppies

Waiting for our windy ride in the car

The promise of music always fulfills…


© 2015 ViataMaja, Poezija


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