The Poetry Cafe
Sometimes a man needs to return to his strength,
I know that deviation and change can ignite a spark
within your soul and create new friendships as well
but eventually one must return to their grass roots.
I woke up abandoned along some dusty highway watching
sheet music disappear like tumbleweed in a whirlwind.
I glanced over at my motorcycle with its twisted
front wheel, yes the wheel I had exchanged for at the
swap meet thinking it was superior to what I had.
Rusty rims covered with metal flake are like a cheap
friend they only dazzle in the sunshine.
I prayed as though I were speaking for someone else
for understanding and help but found silence not to
be so golden.
I checked my cell phone but the numbers I had relied
on were suddenly blocked because they were busy.
I scrolled for some soothing music to help in this
hour of need but I received only silence
Then I heard the wind flap against my jacket and noticed
a piece of paper dancing and oscillating in perfect rhythm.
I pulled out this poem I had written long ago titled
song of agreement but singing did not agree with me,
it only served to seperate me from my true calling.
Suddenly My fingers could feel what I could not see,
my eyes could see what my heart could feel, and
my ears could hear the soft bell of inspiration ring again.
I am a poet, a writer of song not a singer of song.
My strength was restored and I skipped back to town
sending a tow truck while I renewed my old friendships
drinking holy K-cup coffee and laughing at the poetry cafe.
