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Watching the horizons for your presence,
never do show up.Lifting eyes heavenward, hoping to hear yourvoice, yet there’s nary a whisper in response.
Triangular squares taking shape, forming in my mind.
memory’s unconscious paths of rightful thinking.Contrary to pillars of strength, all eyes fall instead,upon the weakest, least of all, manner of being.Waving red and silent beacons to passers-by, steeringthem away, never letting anything close enough to matter.Piloting music down strains of unfamiliar tunes, catchingetudes at triangular moments in time, while maintainingthe single square rootedness of…
Arms of an ocotillo moving in time with the music I hear.
Taking me silently into deepened worlds of contemplative solace,far away from the world and all of its injustice.
In the treehouse of my mind, I sit and relax, looking over
Careful obligations of life are safely stored with countlesslinens in closets of memories.Starchly regal, parading through the den of my mind are view-points and opinions I have always lived with.Nothing has turned them from me, not even the swaying of agood argument.Stubborness sits casually in an armchair, having been withme since birth, controlling and demanding…
Music’s special light beckons to me to travel over lands
and pep unlike any other.Etudes forming and creating themselves, folding andunfolding meanings of lyrical words.Tossing notes around, matching them, with mathematicalbeats of careful existence, being serenaded by lovely, intuitive musical scores.Lifetimes being carefully held in instruments of future poetical natures, always awaiting the forward motion of music’s impetuous behavior.
Remembering last days of ending sunsets, calmly reiterating their places in my imagination.
Alone, in the spotlight, capturing all the glory and proudly displaying themselves in a poem.