I sit in my room
and
notice my guitar
filling me with its radiance
a glimmer of light
shining brightly upon the
softly colored mahogany
it beckons,
calling me to strike ever-so-gently the
strings
to paint on the canvas of
silence
such is my calling
I reach for the instrument but
things are
different, this time
I find not the vibrant breath of music but
the self,
determined and
willing to lay-bare its heart to
the world
my eyes are opened
I am aware and
I breathe life into my lungs
for the first time
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
I sit in my room
and
notice my guitar
filling me with its radiance
a glimmer of light
shining brightly upon the
softly colored mahogany
it beckons,
calling me to strike ever-so-gently the
strings
to paint on the canvas of
silence
such is my calling
I reach for the instrument but
things are
different, this time
I find not the vibrant breath of music but
the self,
determined and
willing to lay-bare its heart to
the world
my eyes are opened
I am aware and
I breathe life into my lungs
for the first time
Request permission to use this poem