Now I see it crystal clear, I’ve dissipated the fear,
closing the gap, from being a sap
to knowing my power, like an iron tower
I walk with God, no need for a prod
the heart want’s me dead, I walk to my execution gladly,
I’m on mission, for attrition, from my self and only my self,
my dead selves burn in the fire, I cry watching the funeral pyre,
The heart’s string is tuned in the key of every other heart,
In every interaction, symphonies are born,
heart melodies tickle my ears, we play together as seasoned professionals,
at the bookstore, violin,
in the forest, flute,
on the train, jazz.
Where heart’s are gathered, there is kindling,
your smile is the spark as we pass each other by.
No words required, where energy is acquired.
I look in her eye, give it a try
an invitation in my stare, that she does not ensnare,
Let’s spend the month renovating our hearts, cry out all the junk
and chuck it in the trash.
Nothing in this world is personal, it’s everyon-al.
The come down from my flights of ego, are worse than hangovers.
The only cure for ego, is to get low
and flow like water like ol’ Tzu
sow seeds, down there in the mud
My mask-speak is bad, I’m a flight risk,
I’m a glitch, I see your eye twitch.
Will you write a heart symphony with me?
The chord progressions, the three part harmonies are felt, not heard,
Can you teach me all the notes you learned in this lifetime?
I would be honored to be your apprentice.
The ecstasy is in playing our instruments, we are virtuosos of the heart,
as babies we have more expansive note range,
mind fixation shrinks the heart’s tonal range
With my wound I can feel your wound,
My light can shine in to the deep crevasse of your wound and you can do the same for me,
I want to visit these new worlds
in your heart
that you birthed
in the chasm
where the world cut you deep enough, to find the gold
Let’s make a masterpiece together.
The Sober Hombre 