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by Maya Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1530855
A spiritual poem
The Guitarist

I lie awake on the floor listening to the gentle strumming of the guitar.
My mind is clouded with concern and stress and even simple thought.
It’s too hard; I can’t do it. Why can’t I do it?
The music remains steady and draws my focus once more.
It all begins to fade away…
Fade away…
My life becomes a music video.

Dreams flutter through my brain as I drift off to sleep.
The cool breeze plays with my hair and the guitar keeps playing.
Then I hear such beautiful familiar lyrics and my heart beats with the rhythm.
My heart wrote the lyrics.

It is a strange music video. There is no sight of any dancers or singers or even the guitarist. There is only me.

I lay there staring up into the sky when I thought I should dance. What kind of music video doesn’t have dancers?

My legs are strong, but they give way under the pressure of my nerves.
I almost fall when the guitarist emerges and plays his music louder.
His strumming quickens into an exciting rhythm that gives strength to my lyrics and legs.
The sky lights up and the trees dance in the wind as music floods every corner of this picture.

He jumps and laughs and dances and there is this aura about him. The music video would not be complete without the guitarist.

I may write the lyrics, but God plays the music.
© Copyright 2009 Maya (gaj7 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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