The Catalyst
I heard them cry on their knees
as song to state earthly goals
asking for a set outcome
be it base or sacrosanct
the exalted saw the rugged cross
high up on the hill top
the others rode the prancing horse
with equal fervor of the first.
Those in song were supplicants
abiding by emotion's draw
the writer shared this through tune
now I'm captive to his muse
adoration is both their kink
one for God, the other crotch
spanning both the high and low
yet fair verse does not judge.
Stanzas express a burning need
so my ears are thus informed
emotion becomes the only path
drawn along the singer's voice
bless the muse for these goals
artistry beyond the pale
with music as the catalyst
I'll be torn to listen more.
Now my shoulders are a perch
imp and angel on each one
keen to sway my reeling mind
to their side, the right kind
though I suspect, I'll say this
that a tune will tap my foot
and if I like the end result
I will listen to both of them.
© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170526.