A new song

From its place on an old wooden table
a Hokema B9 kalimba called out,
Play me!
for it had been a while since it had been touched,
and it felt that it was time
to compose a new song

Okay

And so it was picked up and played
until a new song appeared

♫ ♫ ♫

A new dimension

Guitar and harmonica had been playing together for some time
when from not so far away
the voice of a violin could faintly be heard

♫ ♫ ♫

 And her voice gradually soared
as she drew near,
adding a new dimension
to an old song

♫ ♫ ♫

A haircut

The sound of the scissors
as they cut through the silence
and through her hair
soothed the woman who sat
on a green wooden chair

♫ ♫ ♫

A bit of talk
now and then

until
the song of the clippers,
the handles gently being squeezed,
the cutter and comb sliding back and forth,
stilled the slow flow of words,

the improvised rhythm,
irregular and calming,
captured their attention and nurtured
the peaceful vibe

♫ ♫ ♫

Cave Man

Cave Man lived in a small cave not far
from a small community in a pretty valley,
and he spent his days alone high
in the mountainous jungle
and in silence,
meeting now and then
with a friend or two
for a while

And in his cave sometimes he played
his twelve-string Morris guitar.
beautifully and gently,
alone and with friends,
and always with love

♫ ♫ ♫

Precious silence

In a dimension where most of the folk opted
to speak no more than nine hundred words per day,
precious silence reigned

Only essential or beautiful phrases were spoken,
and some chose to speak in haiku

Instead of talking all of the time,
people spent their days and nights listening
to birds and other beings sing
and observing calmly
as they flowed through life,
now and then making music or love