Croz

Joni sang in longing

the dirge-like hymn

about Woodstock.

Billion year old carbon

stardust and echoes

hovering like a fog

over an inlet of sea

with half a million molecules

of flesh and blood

swelling like water.

You took her at her word

enhanced it with experience

and renewed the promise

of what eternal youth

and magnetic tape could bring.

In succeeding years

let us make songs that

can unite so many varied voices

their vibrations building in

diaphragms a longing

to pour out the notes

and overflow the world

to hear hate drown

in harmony

and peace push through

freshly watered soil

unfurling leaves and

climbing to the sun.

 

 

Happy Birthday David!

 

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