Unlike light in all its glory,
a song can walk through walls
or cross quiet battlefields like soft bullets
into the hearts of forgotten brothers.
A song may choose angels
or ditch bottles in the wind
humming amber hymns.
Songs find the seams of morning dreams
reminding you of deepest loves,
deepest needs.
A song sneaks up in a lonely land with a laughing embrace
and whispers behind the ear,
Come old friend, let's sit a while
Let's smile again.
© 2020 Elliott Park