Cellos and Guitars

Here's a poem which I wrote on the bus one early morning in Greece:

While cellos and guitars play and serenade,
I pretend you're mine.
On each roll and slide your heart
comes to mind.

From Roman buildings to Grecian tombs,
My digital music will serenade me and you.

In a flurry of history and mastery of words
Gently I am reminded of the harp.
The harp which gilded a birthday
celebration
With this harp comes a cello, and
together they sing hope to the people.

Hope comes a bright blue sky; a bright new year; a bright blue cello.

Davita might name Blue differently. To her
It is an instrument of individuality which one must use to strum.
Yet still, this bright hope is diversity.

Though our bodies live under rubble,
and stone,

Hope in life comes from cellos and guitars.

-Judi