MUSICIANS

All the while we were circling around
a great secret shared by a ragtag
procession carrying the banner of
inner pleasure through history,
at its forefront the musicians who,
knowingly or not, were one tribe,
honey-sippers of a lovemaking
so profound it dissolves identities
in pure connection.  No matter our age
or sex, we’d surface out of that water restored
to the ecstasy from which we were made.

Our garage-band studies taught us that
the sound we made together was a vibrational
trap door we could drop through into timelessness.
How foolish our differences then, how small
the selves we think to protect with violence,
prohibition, and war, while at our deepest
we are harmony, beyond harm.
Call us what you like — hedonists,
song-freaks, profane mystics — we don’t care
as long as we can keep dipping our heads
in that river that turns our grief to gold.

 

 

 

—Thomas R. Smith
Picture Nick Victor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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