Music
Joe stansberryIt was some quiet night
when I began to understand
something unattainable pushing up through the sand up against a rough brick wall…
all became unmistakable
that this sacred yet scarred black angel
sky would some sweet second
with one hollow breath would swoop and sigh
for sights its seen which often
too hard to believe yet
if you hear it speak
you'll finally see that all is faith for the passage
is the steps you take
not the words from a sage
I hear the steps coming like an army of angels drumming…
to music…
There was a waltz
you were a dancer a music maker evolved…
dissolved unto his strings crawled inside his heart
which made him sing to you…
it was music which he sang for you…
and you stood enthralled until he was through…
blessed are these notes
a daily grind can prove poison quick to the antidote
to breathe once more for life
to pour its gift all over you seduced
and enchanted all became romantic interludes…
including the moment that you realized…
that you are music…
floating over the crowd …
and you are music the song we sang
out together oh so loud…
and you made music without
even making a sound through you I found it all …
I thought I'd lost…
then I found music…
I still get stormy clouded eyes…
when we made music…
a sanctuary from the times
you gave me music love and
hope I cannot hide even through bitter lies…
music rests comfortably in truth…
she was music he is music
and we are too…you are music…
a song stuck perfectly in my head…
you are music…
the voice…
the things you said…
and we made music…
when you sang to me I was set free to music…