in the cherub’s eyes
…then I hear those keys playing and
I remember every memory that made me what I am.
The love I was given that I now indulge in doubly.
The boyish excitement in my responsibilities.
The families that came and went.
Those are what those keys mean.
The smell in the darkness of an empty theater.
The eeriness of the ghostlight helping the house settle,
listening to the wood conversing with itself
in the silence of its beautiful melody.
Joining together as a family,
ready for the battle of a new season,
pushing each other until the last days,
knowing the rich emptiness when it is all over
that we wait in until
the next time around
the next battle.
Those are what the 88’s coming together
can bring back in a man.
A wise one once said,
“Live your life to the fullest…
so later on,
you can write about it
and live it all again.”
There’s a power in us over what we do
because when the morning sun calls to
pause your dreams for reality,
let life be the sage,
Those are the lessons the artist learns.
That is why the artist is admired.
When you interweave past lives
with reality and hopes,
it all seems to just make sense.
It’s quite humbling
and we, the artist, become greedy for the world to know.
…in that lust thus spawned the cherub of art
and in his eyes, ordinance did succumb to naivety…