Her fingers touched the strings
That breathed rhythm into timelessness
Her eyes searched for the fire within
And made me long for a time and place
Lost in the blue light of communion
Her words touched a part of my hidden self
That was now emerging from my subconscious
And magically transformed my tears into joy
As she sang words that echoed through time and space
And reverberated into rhythm of my heart
She had once sung for those who bought her soul
Those who were tormented with indignities beyond their control
Skeletons hidden in places of gold and pain
Lost in the eternity of hellish devices
Imprisoning her with their devilish torment
She was now singing for unsung musicians
For deaf poets selling their sum and substance
For dumb writers hocking cheap words
For colorless artists starving for creativity
For humans devoid of lost and precious civility
Angie is a sensorial being
On the wavelength of melodic lyric
Her words speak to the poetry in lost poets
Her songs manifest the spirit of musicians
Her humility reminds us of...our humanness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Outstanding write with such sublime richness of your words that create such a vision of rare humanity!
I am sincerely humbled with your response, Hazel. Thank you so much for your very kind words.