Homage to Glenn Gould

With thin fluttering fingers he grazed one’s heart

And then cut deeply

Forcing us to notice

Transcending the instrument under his charge

Moving self aside

To give entry to the mystery

And we would sing along

As his own voice would break free

Rising up from the rapture that could not be contained

For he was the instrument

Directly channeling source

And the music danced so eloquently through him

Blue Skies

She walked away from all she knew
Found skies of blue
And said she wouldn’t be back
Because there were sun drenched dreams 
Dripping from trees 
And they were waiting for her…