Clean

Clean

I walked upon chords today
in ways I've forgotten,
echoed between rain,
brushed before becoming
full grown
for no reason
than to be on the path,
to go where it wills,
to make a pattern,
to recall
a not so long ago
and make the picture
of a small girl,
bony promises
brought home,
to hone skills,
to learn
how to linger
beside a throat
upon kings
of virgin keys,
give over such
innocent openings,
recarve ancient channels
as drops on my skin,
left as light
distinguished residue
turning to stone.
And so I walked
upon thoughtful
chords today
and felt one
with a soul
re-arising,
becoming still.