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everything about it the raising waves of sound and the pluck of the violin the fiddling fingers on the mandolin and the swell of the drums his voice bows like a singing saw and curls down into the depths of his own feeling and art not only in the poetry but poetry in the very sound *i want to see the things you see because i like the way you breathe* it pulls a soul onto its toes both of the mind and of the feet and sends it dashing down the snowy roads lined by broken corn stalks and gray buildings and fairy lights of the city brings us one with the buskers and into the hearts of every other person who has heard it my god, it has made us into a pool of humanity each soul touching in ways deeper than this to my dear violins and violas and basses and mandolins and drummers thank you for the gift of sound
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
Ode to a Band
everything about it the raising waves of sound and the pluck of the violin the fiddling fingers on the mandolin and the swell of the drums his voice bows like a singing saw and curls down into the depths of his own feeling and art not only in the poetry but poetry in the very sound *i want to see the things you see because i like the way you breathe* it pulls a soul onto its toes both of the mind and of the feet and sends it dashing down the snowy roads lined by broken corn stalks and gray buildings and fairy lights of the city brings us one with the buskers and into the hearts of every other person who has heard it my god, it has made us into a pool of humanity each soul touching in ways deeper than this to my dear violins and violas and basses and mandolins and drummers thank you for the gift of sound
christine-eglantine
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
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