Phase 1
Far beyond the canopy, rings of smoke that I could see
And when I rushed to reach the tree, there on my way I bruised my knee;
At last I held the twigs for once and saw a rock beneath the branch, wherein lay some tamarind.
"One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." - Bob Marley |
And therein found the woodwind.
Was it a Bassoon or a Piccolo; a single reed in my double greed?
The hunger died, my ravenous eyes pined for reed like a stash of weed.
And when it played, my lips quivered; a hundred doors in my heart slithered
To open a space where hopes brew, and none laments the lost shoe.