Perfection Poem by Smoky Hoss

Laying back
-the only way to sit
when the soul is being stirred-
totally relaxed, I listen
to the greatest album EVER created:
'Live At Fillmore East'.
The Allman Brothers.
It's 1971 again.
It's then.
It's now.
It's FOREVER.
I close my eyes, open my mind,
and go riding
the soul's train
along the tracks of eternity,
to realms no human logic
can ever comprehend.
Smoke, cinders, sparks
and Fire
flying in all directions
from Duane and Dickey's guitars.
Those existential engineers
of mythical music,
at the helm,
hands throwing the throttle
wide open,
as to the ends of eternity itself.
Always accelerating outward
into the cosmos,
at the speed of light...

and, when I open my eyes
I will be
in a different universe,
that Good universe,
where Music shows the way
to the possibilities of perfection -
Perfection of the soul,
in the music of the All in all-
The Allman Brothers Band.