my mind crescendos
until the violin strings
are screaming more than they sing
and i cant hear my heart beat
over the sound.
when the world is too loud,
i will grow louder
until my bow snaps, and death drowns me out

On cobble stone street
people move in haste
as street connoisseur of sound stands.

He’s the mighty busker
with instrument of choice
poised and ready.

He’s a special breed
whose stage is one
in every city and town.

He's there to share grand talent
and give one a taste
with hopes a coin gets tossed.

Buskers attire matters little
for his art is there to
benefit.

Many passerby’s move
inattentive, uncaring
stuck in their whirlwind of their life.

Many a bystander
will listen for less than a second
breezing by without proper
acknowledgement.

Oh to the street performer
I pay homage
to the one who gifts currents of air.

Oh to the side walk master
I bow as my coin gets tossed
with prayer...
That their talents get posted
and their You-tube goes viral.

The street musician plays
from heart
becoming his instrument.
His sounds infusing
with air so passerby's
can be empowered.

The music performer plays
sharing his art
to become a portal of sound.
His music graces ears
with his undying passions.
And guitar case open
hoping to feed his art
and self.