A vine
A wanting, loving vine
is buried deep inside

The way the vine curls
Depends on the day
Sometimes towards the bright disk of eternity
Other times to the enchanting dusk

Once a day
I let it free
The vine wraps a soothing embrace
Around my soul
As my cords vibrate
Forming a sweet vibrato
A solemn alto
A clear soprano
Acapella
To nothing but my own head

Experimenting
Finding my sound
The vine finding its crutch  
Trying to climb its way
To the top
But still unrecognized
And hidden