The Soloist
A man without a prop and a steady cane,
A man alone in the windy rain,
With faith locked inside his beating heart,
A seafaring merriment without a chart,
A romp among the rocks of jagged strands,
The racing of the blood as the thrill expands,
The surge into the future alone unheeded,
A reckless journey with caution unneeded,
With an over-sized ego and trust as a guide,
He mounts his steed for a glorious ride.
He plays his flute with automatic fingers
As it wraps around heaven then so lingers.
Colors of the rainbow come out to dance
To the song of love and beauty enhanced.
Notes dipped in honey fly into open spaces,
Pushing the outer limits as the heart races.
Coming to the end is not the end to be known,
But infinity above the heavens so lovely shown.
The song has ended but yet rises high and higher.
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