I strum the guitar,
just as the dream begins, and close
my eyes, and look within.
The sound coming from this instrument
fills me with a knowing
that feels like the best of times akin.

Back and forth, and forth and back,
strumming,
all the while there’s more coming.
Hands slide up and down the neck,
fingers tired,
yet no one remembers,
because the music
Is simply glorious in all it’s radiance.

The vibration shakes my being,
core holding tight
to this very special delight.
Skin prickles, wakes up,
just as the goose bumps begin to flush.

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