A lilting lyric whispers a shadow of darker days
An unlucky roll of the loaded dice of chance
A meandering melody rises and falls, pitches and sways
A flight on the wing, an open invitation to dance
The rhythm is beating, I’m tapping my feet
The singer is singing, I’m feeling the heat
The word clouds are poems, my skies are ablaze
The music is swirling, I’m running the maze
A percussive pulse taps a dulcet drum in my head
A wave of joy rises like an ocean swell in my heart
A vaulting voice flows freely, swirling blue and red
A wail of black endings, an iridescent call to start
— Wayne Visser