Thursday, August 13, 2009

Poem in search of a title

Notes dance through my open mind

and out into the world again.

Where is the line between open and raw,

vulnerable and pitiable?

We all live in a prison

To break free

Is to find another

of greater or equal value.

The music I hear is born of

Millions of years of evolution

finely tuned to express itself.

Messengers sing, they have to.

Thousands of years of enlightenment

and still we seek

to escape the pain.

To understand the necessity of infinity.

To hear, dance

the music in our minds.

November 2008

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