Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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Histories are reset,
fears locked away
as if discarded instruments
set back
in their felt-lined cases
and then hidden
to collect dust
in the back of closets;
glimpsed occasionally
as reminders
of failed melodies,
but no longer haunting rooms
with discord.
Cast off all the rest 
as if it were possible 
to be a blank slate again, 
but retain 
each one 
of the prior marks 
written in the chalk 
of painful experience 
now turned to dust; 
keep hearing those naive songs 
played with untrained hands. 
The heart’s scars 
are not to be ignored, 
but simply not worshipped so hard 
that it springs forth 
a religion preventing 
a new savior. 
Because living is easy 
and loving is simple, 
but believing 
is what takes all courage.
Time again 
to have faith.
Time again 
to take all sides 
of every story, 
fold their disparate edges 
as if they were a love note 
passed in grade school 
and let that muscle 
front and center 
lead the way once again. 
It’s been torn and tattered, 
just like that paper 
upon which declarations 
and confessions 
have been written, 
but never 
has it felt so pristine 
as when given a chance 
to set the rhythm again.
for no matter 
what has happened before 
the music is simply 
too lovely to ignore.
(at Heart Dance (Part 2))

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