Whenever I want to say hello,
I play a song on the radio,
I choose the lyrics, the beat,
the rhythm plays a sweet harp,
I stand alone in the corner of the room,
dance a little bit on my own,
play a set of flute with my fingertips,
and only imagine, this is where it all began,
listening to that ballad that cried,
left me weeping against the cool wall
of a sheltered past, bricked over by time.
I wonder if we might ever realize the impact
that moment had on our lives, might have
struck a chord in any one of our dearest memory,
notions beyond the realm of our day.