Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Oh Sarasvati, longing for the sounds of your exquisite consort, where is your music, woman?

The lady had so many arms,
she could play viola, sitar
and star in a 4-star rated
orchestra, all by herself.
She also handed out tickets
for free. It was quite a feat.
I never met her personally
except in dreams where she
held me accountable for ideas,
pearls of quail and
peacock wisdom clutched
in her hands, ready for
the giving. When she looked
at me with her third eye,
I was blinded by sanity
and tender bliss and oh
when she kissed me,
I was transformed!

Whoever she is, I miss her
more than mountaintops
miss the insistence of sunrise
to illuminate peaks.

I seek wisdom from
her aura, her melody,
her magic, her peace.

Where is her music?
Why did it cease?

yet, listen closely to her smile - the sounds of laughter erupting from a distant limb, a giggle crawling up an index finger travelling the slow route of arms and shoulders - is that not the undertone of music, an overtone of song?

While waiting for the words to begin, Sarasvati remembers the evening before and how the evening to come shall delight and surpass all expectations.

She tunes her instrument as the silence of anticipation brightens the landscape and feeds her desire.

Where is her music?
Why did it cease?

I am happy to hear it
I am happy that was just a rhetorical question.
If it was any brighter I think I would go blind
Her voice is the music I hear
You have no idea
maybe
Just how much it means to me
it carries me
when I got the old man river blues.

many arms
three eyes
but only two feet
wait for her