Introvertido Inquietas

Restless Introvert

The violinist takes his stance,

His composure, riddled in heat and passion; 

A former soldier.

The fiddle caresses and floats over the stretched sheep,

And silence fades to filling the room with sounds now pouring over,

Immersed in, 

Brewed, bathe in,

Why don't we steep.

The tension as it snaps; clashes,

A sudden release.

Alternative expressions of self, 

Some methods deeper than speech.

As we come clean in a bath of intervention,

Battling demons.

"A wall is just a wall and nothing more at all. It can be broken down,"

Understanding only comfort in our opinions and feelings.

A church bell ring reaches tops of towers and mountain tops as if everything's summoned and risen,

Fear, no, here with your brothers and sisters.

Feels of Sunday sirens and chatter,

Each strum and tune and bounce and groove 

And sways allude a linking view we all could us;

Now speak!

Chakras, third eyes, mind, body, and soul.

The sounds fill your spirit uplifted excited to journey down a new road.

As the violinist takes his stance,

His composure, riddled in heat and passion, 

Habits,

Introverted patterns,

Out of the dark, but fine,

Middle of the night silence.

Not necessarily shy,

Nor intentionally quiet.

I've been up late nights,

This musician, the warrior, the knight. 

Brave woman, brave men conquering courage.

The breeze of a thousand gasps for breaths of verbs, 

The words of James Baldwin,

Brilliant,

Bright in makeshift homes of metaphors,

Fitted with veils of blackish lavender shades,

Now sun-ray breached, 

No longer afraid.

Reviews

[Nariko]

This poem is beautifully written!