Senses

As my hearing fades I must consider the good in that. Perhaps now the sound of thunder will frighten me less.
And then someone asks, “But what of music, Art?”
And I glance straight ahead and answer, but only to myself, for speaking my truth aloud would only serve to alarm those who are in the vicinity who still hear well.
I say to myself, “I will ALWAYS hear music.
I have absorbed all that I’ve heard and enjoyed.
And even now, with my hearing still partially intact, I compose entire musical pieces
in my mind to the extent that I hear them clearly and loudly as if played by the geniuses who’ve inspired this highly active imagination.
The sound of a solo double bass putting down a simple five note funky melody is subtly joined by sweet bleeps of a trio of sax, trumpet and trombone that rise to its own type of thunder.
A blast of energy blazes through in a blast of precision mixed with the swagger of Stevie Ray and vocals come forward from a mix of Janis Joplin and Bessie Smith
and I continue to evolve this piece through endless possibilities as my feet tap and my fingers snap to new found options in the music I’ve loved so much
and I know that nothing can take that away from me.”
And then someone asks, “What about your vision, Art?”
And I speak out loud that which I know.
“That of which I have experienced as beautiful,
My wife and my children and my whole family,
My friends,
My dogs,
My ocean,
My trees,
And all that I’ve taken in with my eyes and experienced the splendor,
are photographs in the scrapbook of my mind.
They, too, go with me, wherever I go.”