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Brass Rings

"Wait to start the music

Draw pictures on the

Wall instead"

I requested

You made your images multidimensional and

Colorful like the worlds outside

Your mind

Sometimes we insist we know something and

Lock ourselves inside for security

Something that isolates us

Tricks us into cartoon land or worse 

Still we waited for a visitor the music and time...

Pack up your tenor and let's go eat

We were talking the entire time

Without mention of the statement

You wore like a billboard on your sweatshirt

That day we'd avoided conflict and pretend

I didn't feel the aggression of your proclamation   

We practice our faith (or lack of)

According to IQ

Habit and community

And go about it often without regard for

How it breaks hearts or shuts down ideas

We knew we could play music later

For the moment we waited and talked around conflict

Bended around issues that divide us

Issues that dominate our DNA 

What we don't understand hurts us constantly

And we wander in a miasma of

Being and believing

Between being lost and enlightenment

Hiding in positivity and joy

Avoiding intimacy

We returned after dinner

To find a brillent sunset pouring through

My west-facing window

You calmly said "I'll play a little bit

Then I'll need to go"

Your chair faced the sun and the

Brass bell of your tenor caught light

And as you played and bobbed  

Golden ringlets of light encircled us

Made magic in the space we shared

References that held our dilemma surrounded

Us in three-dimensional golden rings of acoustic surrealism

In echoes from your horn's history and

Song titles which came to mind

Like philosophical equations:

You Don't Know What Love Is

I Want To Talk About You

A Love Supreme

Glad To Be Unhappy

Ballads from dark sides of the soul

Where joy waits like the music waited

Until it was time

Until sunset

To answer questions in intimate detail

Answers exploring the deep of sky and

Misery and ocean

To answer the unsolvable riddles of the universe

With images and music

With words improvised in mid air

Then onto a page...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

◄ The Last Thunderstorm / photo credit: Bill Cottman

Until Rapture Melancholy ►

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