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Homage to Modern Minstrel Philosophers - Taylor Raised

In the dresser mirror
I comb my long, dark brown hair, parted down the middle, while listening to my
favorite AM station.
When from the speaker
sounds the voice
that would play
a leading role
in my salvation
his music fit my soul
like a well-worn work glove
made supple by life experience.
You see, though young in age,
he had well and truly
been through the wringer
and came out a sage.

He sang, in that moment, about the aloof, itinerant “Walking Man” who never stops to lay down roots.
Even to my young,
primary school brain
I could realize the
mastery in his poetry,
the truth in his storytelling.

His guitar playing
with solace, filled my aching heart.
His lyrics enlivened
my senses
transporting me
to an autumnal farm scene
I could see leaves turning,
hear the geese flocking,
smell the hay in the barn stowed,
and feel that frosty pumpkin.

Some 50 years hence
his music comforts
like a cherished baby blanket.
Calms when tense.
Elucidates the beauty
of life, love, family, nature, and sweet music.
Asuages the pangs
of loneliness, grief, and longing.
One can never go wrong
with the wise decision
of choosing James
as your musician
physician.
Written by Gahddess_Worship (Osomajestuoso)
Published
Author's Note
NaPo2024 #22
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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