the heart and the head
lives a space
that vibrates sound
In that space
what we feel
and what we think
coexist
When they meet
they don't always agree
What is played is not
the music of our lives
A melody that weaves
the strings, the horns,
and the drums together
into a necklace, a talisman
hung from our head root
over our beating hearts
A space in the chill of
cold cloudy weather we
wrap with a scarf
sewn together with
our lonely souls
A space that wants to express
so much, but is limited
by its notes, words, small coffins
for our large emotions
from the darkest part of the night
to the first sunlight in the morning
where some of us awaken alone
A space that may separate us
like a paved highway
between a willow and a redwood tree
A space where we may come together
if trust exists and we feel safe
Where the highway can be spoken
into a river whirl pooling
what we feel and think together
making music of our lives
harmonizing our horns, strings, and drums
into a orchestrated ruby bead
that warms our lonely souls
Allowing us to express ourselves
with words, phrases
that become poems
putting silence in sacred places
in-between our lines
A space that can become ours
in a world filled with
the single sound of - I, alone
somewhere between
the heart and the head
