poem

Simple chords, simple words-truth, it stirs me. 

It starts with the quiet and ends the same. 

The melody is where it captures me. 

There in the pages of sheets, a work is being done, 

I feel it through my ears.

An instrument pours emotion, both the player and the played

It resonates and captivates,

It is a song.  

Simple strokes, simple colors-art, it stirs me.

It begins with an idea and ends the same,

yet how one interprets it may be changing.

There in the hand how one sees is seen, 

I feel it through my eyes.

A brush strikes emotion, and the pallet responds.

It captures and reveals,

It is a painting.


Simple rhythm, simple steps-movement, it stirs me.
It begins with the feet and ends the same,
yet the whole body is moving.  
There in the mind, a feeling is stirring.
The cadence strikes emotion, and the body responds.
It tells a story without words,
It is a dance.