On days like these we are recharged like batteries
Where the bottom of the boat drops and we get this idea that we don’t exist at all,
that tomorrow isn’t promised,
but this show…it must be witnessed between
karma and
zen.
And sometimes,
we belong rewound
in time
Standing on fertile soil
where we plant seeds of
love
Where our newly found souls, match the wing span of angels
Where we take flight
Where our passions make sonnets and we put them on mix tapes
where we explain each song and how we are all under one cloud,
And that is when we all sit down
The curtains go up
The lights go dim
And the players start first with strings
And the chorus hums softly
And the lights are lions and they are hungry
And the tired artist walks out to the center of the floor
And he stands up straight,
shrugs off the nervousness
And in his head he knows,
the show begins
and ends
with him.
The dances have all been choreographed
He has mastered each step
Every stage call has been called before
He knows to enter stage right
and to exit stage left
He has memorized his songs
Each line of each soliloquy
The ballad of Monday through Friday
The dance of Saturday and Sunday
And the encore begins with the words.
“on days like this
We are recharged like batteries”
And I guess it doesn’t end
Till tomatoes or roses are thrown.
woweeee!
Liked everything about your post, the words, the art, the title and the message; a rose for everyone.
Well done!
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