Virtuosity,

siren of three intervals

subtle green and blue notes

merge together and foam at the beach’s mouth.

Sea of music in a cry from above

wash away my face and borrow my name;

I am the ebb and flow,

though my attention is lost,

an imprecision.

Where am I in the tide?

I’ve stacked an awfully high wall

of crumbling sand

pour away my words, the foundations yield.

Where have your lifelines gone?

One must be fierce in this life,

calculated and present

constantly aware.

Not how I’ve fallen to place lately,

with hours allocated but few executed.

You must be wise in your time,

do what has to be done,

and rest.

The tide will rise again.