Tiny sounds called notes.
Patterned properly create a key.
The lock is stiff and brassy and rust,
cock your head to the tilt, and breathe.
Unlock a world, a realm a space,
white, light, bluster and float.
blue air, cold with comfort,
light it up, let it glow.
To dream is to be unconscious,
knowing, willing, still.
But music gives you no control,
just spins and throws and thrills.
Powder and green ribbon,
the story is not yours.
unknowing, just floating.
unwelcome and what for.
Dance it will, for you, perform.
presence, essence, thrown.
till quickly it bottles and bloats,
and tumbles down forlorn.
silence reaps and creeps to play
sharp, black and shine
darkness where there once was ray.
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