She Cries
She cries
in her car
alone, actively listening
to the song playing on the radio
She participates
expresses the words
entering her mind
then bursting from her lips
instantaneously
the music penetrates
layer after frozen layer
until it finds the inner-most
realm of soul, still as warm
as the day she was born
and it is from this solitary place
deep within the nucleus of herself
behind the closed doors of emotion
that she cries.
I cry in the car
all the time. Sadness
is my closest companion.
So, I channeled the poet for her, whoever she is.
I’m working on another piece that explores
the connection between music and the depth of our souls.
Perhaps I’ll put it up for a day or two.
Thanks for reading, and for being my friend.
Love, James.
in her car
alone, actively listening
to the song playing on the radio
She participates
expresses the words
entering her mind
then bursting from her lips
instantaneously
the music penetrates
layer after frozen layer
until it finds the inner-most
realm of soul, still as warm
as the day she was born
and it is from this solitary place
deep within the nucleus of herself
behind the closed doors of emotion
that she cries.
I cry in the car
all the time. Sadness
is my closest companion.
So, I channeled the poet for her, whoever she is.
I’m working on another piece that explores
the connection between music and the depth of our souls.
Perhaps I’ll put it up for a day or two.
Thanks for reading, and for being my friend.
Love, James.
Labels: James Eric Watkins, poetry, She Cries
posted by Sir James Eric Watkins at 2:30 PM
2 Comments:
Such a beautiful poem, and yes music does seem to penetrate the parts of us that have become hardened and touch our souls.
We love you too James!
I do believe in that connection. Most of us find comfort in music and perhaps within our own reflections, find a connection within words and sounds to our own existence.
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