I wandered further in the woods
a harper tune to hear and
as I pushed the branches back
I stood to listen to the tune.
He played the notes that
climbed the clouds
and burrowed into leafy piles
of rotting life on forest floor
and I could not help but
adore the man who stood in
ray of sun beneath the canopy
high above and love became
the siren song that held me
still though I would leave
and hasten to my home alone.
I could not move as mesmerized
he lifted saddened blinded eyes.
His playing stilled, he called to
me. “Who waits there, for I
cannot see?” I answered.
“I would hear some more.
lured here by music on the wind
I am alone and wish no harm.”
His fingers worked the mighty
strings and chorus sweet
he played for me and I began to
sing the words I knew not
still I sang and still he played
late into night,
and sight would be no obstacle
for hearts can hear and speak
a language eyes could never
understand. The music led me to
him and music bid me stay.
He took my hand and walked with
me. I took him home that day,
and now the harper is my own
and music makes our hearts
it’s home.