When they were quite small...we presented all of the children with musical instruments... a guitar to our oldest, a drum set to our middle child, and a piano to our youngest on Christmas morning. During the day, we watched in amazement as the children chose "different instruments" then those Santa had given them. The oldest gravitated to the piano and seemed to have a natural inclination to playing it. Our youngest, our only girl, gravitated to the drums and also seemed to be a natural. But what amazed us most is that our middle child, who gravitated to the guitar... excelled. Years later, when he was around 16, he was voted as the second best guitar player in the state of AZ. I hear him always in my mind... playing and singing songs he wrote himself... the music of his soul.
This poem, dedicated to our middle child, will also be found in the new book I am writing... Dancing With the Spirit of Shadowplay
THE MUSIC OF HIS SOUL
My son’s fingers are like a ballerina in dance
The calluses upon his fingers
Similar to the feet of the dancer
His mother used to be
Strumming the string’s
upon his instrument;
his life.
The music is his soul
His mind is captive
The solitude plays in his head
Profound the words
He writes
He becomes the music
which he gives life to
And so the instrument
and the man
become fixated in my mind
It’s a marriage of two
Which become one
His music will forever play on
In my heart and soul.
