It’s a sunrise, it’s a sunset, it’s a moonrise… It’s the crystal in her eyes.
It’s the waves hitting the rocks on the shore. It’s the old song coming on at the right or wrong time on the radio.
It’s the mustache, it’s the beard. It’s the pointed way Penny told you that your dreams were cheap and weird.
It’s the piano playing in the evening as you watch the meteor shower high above in the New Jersey sky
It’s the throbbing noise on the city streets, the silence on the small town as you rock in your porch swing.
It’s the old man stealing from a grocery stand, because he is hungry and his old lady at home needs something to eat.
It’s the limousine driving through the ghetto streets, window opening and trash being tossed carelessly.
It’s the dirty politician, even dirtier than the others, he has the power to incite hatred. He is like a documentary on childlike mockery.
It’s the lake in the August sun, it’s the dizzying effects of witnessing a child being born. It’s the cuddling up on a cool winter evening, it’s the first snowflake falling, falling and dissipating quickly.
It’s the walking cane, the scar on your chest or the exhaustion caused by harmonic jest.
A river of diamonds, gems and opals, glistening as they are dragged down stream into the ocean with no islands, no end…
It’s the empty apartment, empty dreams and empty pockets, lost again, naturally.
It’s the neverending struggle towards relevance, acceptance and repentance.
The sound of pleading, begging for some acts or words of acknowledgment, respect and appreciation.
It’s the sound of the blowing horn, the healing heart and the soothing of ones soul.
It’s the first handhold, the first kiss and the first embrace…