I write, I read, I watch
I hear, I see, I say…
“This twang of red
and a coda so blue.”

The sad song of
mystery and delight,
The rain trickles;
The strings hum as
the bell chimes
The crescendo, the tenor

Now the strings deepen
more illusion and enigma
all sewn into a song,
no, not a song, a
Composition.

The hallowed teak instrument
walks the artist thru a gateway
of eerie astonishment to
sound not written, and words
not heard, but words spoken
with sound.



And we fall… into paradox.



the aquarium.