Hard to say, really

Hard to say, really
why that one becomes the it
the one magnet grin

where you found the line
drawn in quickly shifting sand,
where it disappears,

delight in fancy
not in fact, since fancy's got
it made; pie easy

you're sifting flour; why
be sure, don't think too much; the
calm are those who flow

whether weak that day
or sure, nonetheless okay
decaf coffee tame
When without truth, wait.
 On a too-quick thought train, pause.
If nothing else, sleep.

Instrumental strums

Instrumental strums
shifting hum to wayward hum
pulling me to space

Guitarish jibes ring
fingers drunk on Nescafe
singer souls out Os

Pulling me to gaze
around corners blending past
with soon and could be

Tens of arms pull strings
against strings, waves rush the air
drums set vibes to march

along we go, and
when we know the words, we sing
heads leaning toward beats

our minds transported
we know a type of Love, while
reaching crescendo--!

And all for one, sure
purpose: Universally,
music moves the soul.