3 votes

When it became ok!

When my fingers fell unabashed upon ivory,
setting plaited air to weave and leave these porous walls,
to fill the streets with the raw blood of a swearing heart
it became ok...

It became ok to forget fame,
to recognize my calling absent the game,
and it became ok to remember that sparked moment:
a stage less black than the quiet beast,
poised and beckoning my immature hands.

Peace and Love always.

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Father - Husband - Son - Spirit - Consciousness