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Rhythm with Rhyme, Perhaps

Unnamed

By Carey Ann Hunt

Notes with words.

Rhythm inviting rhyme with or without reason.

Pausing in anticipation.

Awaiting the next pluck of a low C.

Deep. Accompanying. Notes mingling in the air.

Sharing space. Breathing. Becoming.

Growing in intensity. Building and strengthening.

Filling the air. Sound pounding walls and bodies.

Carving into the chilly Davis night.

Beats swinging.

Tones sliding right in close to each other.

Harmonizing. Piano tones resounding.

Tones mingling with eager beings. Listening.

Hungry for sound, harmony and spoken word.

Minds alight in curiosity as to what will come next

Will the sax take your mind by the hand and swing it?

Landing you in a new now.

Quite different than before.

Next a new string of words dances across the room to the beat.

Our beat. Jiving to sounds shared.

Bass sending out vibrations.

Bouncing off the walls and returning home to our solar plexus.

Reverberation. Building tension.

Conflicting sounds at times soothed by pause.

The sax owning its own, stepping out into the night

Confidence in her every step.

Into a sea of words currently floating

Inviting you to travel abroad

While staying anchored in our now.

For those moments we were in the gallery on First Street.

Celebrating rhythm with rhyme, perhaps.

Moon shine casting night light on us all both nights.

Not just us at the 12th annual Davis Jazz and Beat Festival.

Improvised to perfection. As life is when we step in rhythm.

Staccato at times by nature.

Syncopation followed by silence

Thick like a drop nearly ready to drip

On the landscape of our imagination.

The audience attention peeked.

Eager to meet the unknown as if it were an old friend.  

Sharing space in the now created those nights.

Honored to hear tales from one walking off the beaten track.

Gathering words and tales along the way

In deep appreciation of ‘Turtle Island’ and beyond.

Worldly gems woven into stories

Some all the way from Victoria Falls.

A treasure nestled between Zambia and Zimbabwe.

But for that night we were in Davis

Experiencing notes and words painted into imagery,

Our minds dancing to the beat.

Thank you to all involved in various facets.

Efforts made. Words offered. Notes played.

Some seasoned to sharing

Others treading new waters.

Making the unfamiliar familiar.  

Weaving words into the fabric of our experience.

Let’s keep up the beat folks.

Grateful for inspiration at its finest.

We need it now and always.

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