Music
I have a recurring dream,
a place I have never been,
achingly familiar,
I know the curves
of the hills;
the trees call my name;
the river has held the stars
and the music speaks
in a key that knows,
notes float
strung together in truth
I awake and wonder
which place is real?
The one I am in now
or the one I awoke from?
And then the music says
what my body feels
but my words cannot,
the drumroll,
that all exists
and nothing is real
Everything ends
just as it starts,
sound never dies
somewhere in the universe
these notes keep playing
© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks
#monthlymusing
