Misfit Found

To flee
To run away on a sea of jazz
The bass thumping out the rhythms of its art
The candles play a galouise is lit
Perched in hand
The orange tip reminiscing the old overhead lights that used to fly past on the motorway
As I the child sat peering out the window in the passenger seat
Of my fathers car
Submitting to the lively quiet of life
Submitting right until this journeys end of life
I the child of my father being whisked along this trip
Tired but wide eyed
Dreamily admiring this universe of black tarmac and travel
As if like in an alternative plane it was the miles crept
Crept as now the music creeps
Up my spine and all the way down to the tapping of my feet
A musical freedom
Amalgamated to the sound of my heart thumping time away
As down the candles their flames descend
The light is darkened in here
This place of musical retreat from an outside of choices and tough decisions
Muted as I ride the beat
Melodic rises and falls of this song
Muffled voices in discussions my background din
Emotion caught yet by miracle suspended in liberation resides
It’s in this temporary existence I spread a damaged wing
And I wonder which pocket is this that I have fallen into
This universal fold
Within which the music plays
And my painful heart has the scars unveiled
Accounted, permitted, soothed
Until I wonder how the other feeling ever was
Sharper, harder, alternative, closed.