Grastoff Green Song

 A LESSON OF LINES

A.K.A ART

For John, the father of my friend Irene

A bard sings songs

Of far away lands

Of magic and of justice

And a green fog falls 

Softly 

from a velvet sky

A tiny light

White-blue blurry

Silently illuminates

A spotlight on

A memory moment

This One curls onto the couch

Cuddles into the corner sighing

Softly down to slow

Realizing their water 

Is just

Out of reach and a silent look

To That One, already settled when spurs

A small sweet movement

Without a blink, That One gets up

To deliver the tumbler of hydration

And the memory moment fades

The white-blue blurry light highlights a

Blossom of growth billowing through

A delicate deer skull 

Embracing a dancing, entwining

Spiked vine of maroon red roses

His troubadour song spins the green fog

Faster

And there is a return to

Here

Now

His deep voice sews words in

Your heart

And what you hear

Is one

Small phrase:

The small things

Words that ring a crown

Of lavender and daisies

Tied together as they twine

Through white gold rings

Chainmail too soft

For the battle field

And sparkling with magic 

Green purple white yellow

The stars are brought down

From everyone’s heavens

To dance around your dreams

When you slow, bow, breathe

And look around

The end, the beginning, the small steps in between

The twelve strings shudder as his song

Comes to an end

And the notes fill the void

From finger tips 

To hearts and lips

That sound is proof 

That we are one with

the purple pink teal sky blanket of Aurora’s light

The spider web wilting 

on the corner of the porch

The crows floating above 

circling bare branches

The river swirling and tumbling

over smooth stone

Woven and held together by

Lines we cannot hear and notes

we’ve never been able to see.