There’s a slope that leads into the wayback.
I am in a yellow dress and running.
The grape vine that was cut sometime after that
becomes a magical trellis in a fairytale woodland;
And the tall grove of trees, a forest of sweet, grassy green undergrowth.
I am that very moment.
Moving,
legs under me carry
with precision of
a gazelle
and the innocence
of soft, childlike calves.
The golden sun
in late summer sky sings
of all the coming sweet golden hours.
She counts her fingers
Whispering each syllable
Words and breath alight
I delight in their journey
Reaching with wrinkled-eye smiles
Recipe for Musical Disaster
Just stop listening
In any musical piece
All goes haywire
Worry about if
You will play the wrong note and
You’re more likely to
Practice sloppily
While expecting perfection
You will surely fail
Recipe for Musical Success
Always listening
To the language of music
Letting it move you
Taking care as to
The intention of each note
Tone has living soul
Practice reachfully
With mindful repetition
One step at a time
NaPoWriMo Day 21. The prompt was “try your hand at writing your own poem in which something that normally unfolds in a set and well understood way — like a baseball game or dance recital – goes haywire, but is described as if it is all very normal.”
I decided to write about both the haywire option and its antithesis. I may hang these on my music room wall! My daughter added a last stanza to the Recipe for Success:
Play it carefully
Take your time to get it right
Like my mother says
A dream awake
In days of yore
The grass waved in ribbons
Summer moonlight like snow
Leaves on trees above
Murmured
Casting shadowed harmony
Drinking radiance thirstily
The sentinel, Morghan
Obedient and still
Kept watch of
Poet dreams and lives foregone
And the gossamer diaphanous
Threads of our hearts
Through deeper mystical arts
Did forever empassion us
There’s one part of my song
Where the notes are more blue
It’s the part where I sing
Of my longing for you
And when the mockingbird comes to my window
I’ll be singing that tune and remembering you
For your love is so sweet and your kisses divine
There is no other love that I’ll ever find
When you hold me close and whisper my name
There’s no person on earth who could love me the same
But there’s one part of my song
Where the notes are more blue
It’s the part where I sing
Of my longing for you
And when the mockingbird comes to my window
I’ll be singing that tune and waiting for you
Winters will melt and the summers soon fade
When our songs have all been sung and the notes all been played
Then I’ll listen and wait for the mockingbird’s song
When he comes to my window I’ll be singing along
There’s one part of my song
Where the notes are more blue
It’s the part where I sing
Of my longing for you
And when the mockingbird comes to my window
I’ll be singing that tune and remembering you
NaPoWriMo Day 19
The echo chamber of my head is so busy that I don’t generally hear the sounds of my inner body, until I at last lie still. And then my heartbeat awakens, the woosh of my breath becomes audible. I hear the movement of my tongue and my teeth in my mouth. My stomach gurgles. My ears discover the hum of my body working, its fleshy gears turning. My thoughts stop speaking in words and instead lean into the language of rhythm. I listen to hear my cells singing in chorus.
NaPoWriMo Day 16
Small Burdens 