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March 15, 2005 - A poem about Belief


My head is a palace of song
Where sleepy kings and families
Do lie and wait for melodies
That raise the slumbered heart
And teach the dance of life itself.
My head is a golden opera
Where Divas sing of passion
Of life’s regret and tragedy
And grand style dramas played
To dressed coat balconies.
My head is a cathederal cave,
Explored by none but bats and stalagtites,
And darkened echoes that call for me
To strike a match and read scribblings
Of singers and songs, of dances over flame.
I hear this music, but wait …
For stone ochred harmony in the night,
For feeling wind sighing against the walls,
For determined tone through maze of souls.
All resolved in lone-voiced melody, arpeggio blown
Into the nothingness - singular, beautiful, pure.
I am waiting for god’s wistful call.


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