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Blue Mellow
Hymns of the tears of the enchanted
Of the aesthetic rivers of the soul,
Serenade to the flowing and the peace,
Air of virgins and melodic dances
Around the hollows of sound,
The thrill of the echoing waves,
The blue bliss that sweeps the sand,
The mellow air that blows in from the sea,
Melted trumpets of the Neptunian Gods,
The hush of the crystal waters,
The blue rivers in the chasms,
Sweet echoes in the chambers,
Sound that embraces the spirit,
That brings it out into the night,
That plays with the hairs on the arms,
Sheds a mysterious wind upon them,
Covers them with a liquid velvet,
A sweet salve, a blushing cream,
Then cleans out the heart with virgin rains,
Moves down into dark corridors
And illuminates them with torches,
Reaching down into the lakes of bliss
And wading in the solitude of sound,
Hearing trumpets crying through the blue.
Oh sweet sadness, sweet virgin air,
The blue of the rivers behind the mist,
The melody of the crying wind,
The tears of the sound
Passing through velvet channels,
Bending its way through the valves,
Trumpets conjuring up the love,
The sacred winds in the breath,
The beauty of the sadness,
The music of the spirits,
The teary sound of the
Music Gods,
The colors of the paradise,
The blue mellow that
Soothes the rugged edges of the soul.
I thought of this poem as I listened to the playing of Chris Botti.
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