Sprig Comments

Imagine being connected by an instrumental string to everyone you know, everyone who knows your name, or shares your bubble of reality. When we think of each other, this webwork vibrates; we are singing to each other by how we give and receive in this subtle way; and we communicate at multiple levels of relationship. This is my current assumption about us, anyway; so this poem expresses my great desire to tend well to the instrumental noises I'm responsible for ~ for my part ~ whatever may be going on at the other end of each string. I figure that if there is no dissonance at my end, the one at the other end is less likely to attack the string, or utterly neglect it, and we will make better music together ~ whether the making of amends is ever acknowledged or not. Then the mere act of thinking about another is a gift to that person, whether they realize it or not. Then we are not sitting in our cities, looking askance at all the noise we are creating. We become part of its symphony. Thank you for commenting. I'm glad you liked it. :)

Thank you, Kumarmani. You are truly my bridge to India. Your poem ~ Ten Fingers Work Together ~ is part of the silent backdrop of my poem above. (My reference to the broken finger is the tell-tale sign.) Thanks for your comments and rating. :)