One night — cold, windy, the kind of night Chicago hands you without apology — our phone rang. His friend said something that felt both impossible and totally believable in that downtown melting pot.
“Get down to Buddy Guy’s Legends right now. We’re playing pool with Buddy and Eric Clapton.”
The wheel turns, the cycle spins,
etched deep in the marrow of time.
A clockwork dream we never questioned,
read with hollowed eyes in line.
January whispers illusions,
February sells hearts by the pound.
March hymns saving everlasting souls.
April weeps, but doesn’t drown.
I’m meltin’ away where the daylight bends •
I’m meltin’ away no start no end •
I’m meltin’ away dead or alive it’s all the same •
I’m meltin’ away the mirror laughs and forgets my name
A phone rings, another call goes unanswered.
Into my backlog,
Another forgotten task.
Why don’t they leave me alone.
They always want my attention.
A problem solved.
But the problem is them, not me.
Thunder breaks me open from within.
Lightning strikes the peak
of my secret garden.
A twister forms,
pulling all the air inward.
As it touches down
At the center of my flower.
A rhythmic thirst pulling me deep,
My hips begin to rise,
I grasp the sheet, holding on,
not to be sucked into the storm.
New Music:
Created by Christopher Sopher
with Co-Creator Alice —
There’s no need to talk.
We listen to the trees,
to our breath,
to that quiet space,
where something could happen,
but doesn’t have to,
and let the moment,
speak decision.
