Singing Stones

Singing
in the water
running
through my
fingers
cool, clear
fountains
of sound

skipping
notes

these were
our people
stones in
the water
now sunk
now gone
their music
in the water.

This comes from a dream. The dream was about the original Native American culture, but I think the poem could apply to any people who have passed.

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Inspired by Sound

Hello readers,

A friend pointed out this music to me by SPIRO- it gave me chills (the good kind!)

and I wrote the following in response. (I would love to hear your own ‘replies’ to this music if you have them!)

Lifting and lifting
a child’s eyes open –
bird, out of sight.

Your Music

I feel your music
in my hands.

They tremble with
the energy of notes.

With the grace
of arias the wind
lifts your hair.

Your red cheeks
a rhythm- jazz
blues the pulse
of samba
in my blood.

No wonder I

drop the papers
which were
carefully
ordered.

They fly apart
with wings of sound.

My hands tremble
with the energy
of your music.