The Music


Your song is with me.
It is vertical.
A ladder, between my mortal heart.
To the clouds! To the sea!
A new language of dreams,
limitless understanding.
He dipped a towel by the shore,
then squeezed out a storm.
Each droplet is a feeling,
touched in one central word.
The music.

It is horizontal.
An audible atmosphere.
The ripple of the harp.
You pluck me into a beat.
Of the present thought, moment.
From the jungle gym, the worship, the dance.
Ballerina to the hip hop dancer.
Each movement
touched in one central word.
The music.

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