Vision Words by Tim Walter Wipe the sweat from your brow Determine the strength you will need Grapple the foundation or you’ll fall Defend rejection and hold it to the end Grasp the establishment before it brings you down The devil rises from the ground and bares everything It fools you with what you see, like magic showmen Stomps you down with the force of gravity Clutch the humbling rise of the mountain again Learn to absolve hatred burrowing steeper Ingest the lies Hit rock bottom and start again Release the weight and sink it to bedrock Let it be shaped into a warm-hearted kin Redefine, expand, control
Ageless Foster Pierce Thin, white fingers stretch across the keys Greeting them like an old friend Their skeletal appearance scares the children watching As do the eerie movements, vaguely remembered As if from a dream And then they take their positions With the precision and care of a doctor beginning surgery The pressure of the scalpel not dissimilar to that on the keys And these hands touch people’s hearts as well For when the notes pours out, Ebbing and flowing from the instrument and its lover to the children They glance down to their plump, stubby fingers and wish them away Imagining their own lean and skilled fingers coaxing music from the keys
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