Body Music
Who are you?
Where is the face I looked at yesterday...or was that last year?
God! This is so depressing.
I still feel young...yet, I am seeing my mother
in this mirror more and more.
My hands are short and stocky,
remnants of my Creek Indian heritage.
These hands were made to work hard and the
calloused fingers are testimonials
that they have.
My eyes see into your soul.
I want to know you and I usually do...
many times on a plane higher than you are even aware of.
My eyes are the window to my very being.
They tell you when I'm sick, tired, distressed,
or even...lying!
My eyes have never learned how to keep secrets.
My mouth is not too big, so I don't
shoot it off with provocation.
It is not so small either.
I will strike up a conversation with anyone.
I like people.
Strangers are just people I haven't met yet.
My ears are large enough to listen when
my friends need a friend, yet
small enough to easily shut out
things I don't want to hear
at the most convenient times
My body, once looked like a sleek, classical guitar
before the days of children and marriage.
Now I see a bass violin - curved, but
definitely thicker.
All in all I like me.
We can't all be classical guitars.
The world's orchestration needs a mixture
of musical types.
I am a bass fiddle, at this time in my life...
so close your eyes and hear my music.
 HOME |
ABOUT US |
| KAREN'S POETRY |
LORI'S POETRY |
|
DOWN SYNDROME |
OUR FAVORITE QUOTES |
| OUR FAVORITE LINKS |
| KOREA |
KOREA PHOTOS |
| KOREA PHOTOS 2 |
KOREA PHOTOS 3 |