sing

there used to be days where the lion's share of the waking hours would be seeded with song ~
notes threading themselves through resonators in the head and heart as they figure eight-ed their way into the room;
percussive abdomen bellows bouncing off the bathroom walls and ceiling

today, how music wears me is entirely dependent on how god wheres me:

over an element in the kitchen, Alexa piping in reliable tangles of rock and jazz, folk and classical, pop and instrumental;
out back, under new buds and weather challenged-starlings,
airpods cancelling and whispering and painting lines just behind the eyes,
leaning into playlists that mine the dopamine system with gentle insistence

and of course, the times i live for; when the where gathers around my feet like pooling crema;
time folds in on itself and I'm left breathless ~
flow state, this,
where syllables bump notes from the concerto's first violins
and the counterpoint pushes back and a dialectic takes over;
notes seed themselves up through my soles, rooting me to earth and linoleum and hardwood.

all is one, all is won ~
as inside begets outside,
executive function rolls over and lets music
scratch its belly like a sun kissed hounddog,
and i am blessed