it's morning again

it's morning again
and there's music in my head
a mixture of what i heard
through the hours of last night

bob dylan is whispering
through my ears
with no assurance but his voice
i hear his name
said with accents
bob dropping like stones
into water making plunks
his name falls his songs sail
away into the rest of my day

i think sibelius is in there still
moving in my head like whisps
of smoke, finding places where
i can remember it again
where i can see the stage and know
that music traveled
from instrument to ear
unimpeded so that there
was a tremble at my lip
a curious wonder about where
this music came from
and if people would come to sit
in theaters in the future
to hear the minds of the past
grabbing at their lovers' hands
moved by music

sometimes the day can change
so that the next morning
you find yourself thinking
instead of forgetting
i think it was the music that did it
blame the music when you can
it wasn't just friends meeting
at the corner bar early in the week
to solely say hello again
there was songs to hear

the thing that gets me
about his songs is the pause
i have every time even knowing
all the sound is coming from one man
and one guitar
that there are moments
when it's like seeing lightning
and i think he'll stop stomping his foot
as a jackhammer and stand up
he'll move about the room
and the walls will crumble
the music will go wherever it wants
he gathers people to hear songs
once more
to shrug off what could have been
a day of sleeping, head nodding
reading the directions and making sure
to fill in the circle completely
turning it to one
where you wear your best hat
and another drink is fine
a night when people you think of
and want there, walk in the door
to hugs and a song
played just for them