The Sudden Storm Of A City Night

“...it just crashed through the window...and the rain just came pouring down right after the thunder and the lightning...” -  Quincy Jones, from the book Listen Up: The Lives of Quincy Jones

_______________________________________________________________________

The night begins to fall in the city

Yet a heavy air remains to be felt

The heat of the day has crossed over

To the domain of the moon

Ominous rumbles of approaching thunder

Reach down from the sky

Warning the city of nature’s upcoming task

Urging all nearby to prepare for the storm

Strong gusting winds of the storm

Reach down from the sky

Sweeping all of the pain off the city streets

Urging all nearby to escape the rush of the day

Dark thick clouds of the storm

Reach down from the sky

Hiding the light of the settings un and rising moon

Urging all nearby to discover light of their own

Bright jagged streaks of lightning

Reach down from the sky

touching the earth wherever it chooses

Urging all nearby to hide from its power

Sounds of heavy falling rain

Reach down from the sky

Soaking everything with its purifying sheet

Urging all nearby to waiting for the end

The storm begins to fulfill its duty of

hiding the stress of the day

revealing the excitement of the night

liberating the soul from the hectic rush of life

releasing the problems of the mind

freeing all to come out and play

in it’s leftover puddles

Tall pointed buildings of the city

Reach up to the sky

Poking holes in the passing clouds of the storm

Inviting all nearby to search for the moon

Reflections of lights off the wet streets

Reach up to the sky

Filling the air with a warm happy glow

Inviting all nearby to share in its blanket

Small bright flowers planted in gardens

Reach up to the sky

Splashing the city with its vivid colors

Inviting all nearby to appraise their beauty

Notes from lonely jazz trumpeters

Reach up to the sky

Whispering their dong in the air

Inviting all nearby to unwind in their tune

Small gentle waves of the harbor

Reach up to the sky

Soothing the city from the events of the day

Inviting all nearby to relax in their lullaby

The night has fallen in the city

And the air is now light and festive

The cool of the night has reclaimed its place

In the domain of the moon

Travels In The Mist, Part 1 - Patterns In The Rain

I, one night, embarked on a walk,
to clear my mind of the troubles
of the past again returning to the present;
clouding the future in a cloud of mist.

As this mist thinned out, I found myself
in a garden on top of a roof;
overlooking the streets and the life
of a large harbor city.

I took my trumpet, and played a long, single note...

The note still held neither sorrow nor peace,
was still neither happy nor sad.
The note still held neither sound nor space,
was still neither loud nor soft.

A woman tapped me on the shoulder,
and I turned to see a brassy glow
She was sitting on a chair on the roof
holding a sax, and beckoned me over

She took her sax, and sang a long, jazzy song...

(We talked for years about years...)
“You cannot hide, not even from yourself,
Like me, you blame somebody else,
All alone, you sit, and watch,
The patterns in the rain...”

“You ask me why my color’s mainly blue,
You know a change is up to you,
Until then, you sit, and watch,
The patterns in the rain...”

(...saw no one to see someone...)
“So when you wipe away a teardrop,
Remember why it’s there,
The visions that betray you,
Are hidden in each tear...”

“If you can’t believe in love,
Make patterns in the rain,
This lonely game you play,
Will haunt you once again...”

(...went nowhere to see somewhere...)
“So don’t believe you’re always on your own,
Your love will surely bring you home,
Once again, you sit, and laugh,
At patterns in the rain...”

“You feel the rain,
and you know it’s there to wash away the pain,
And it’s easy, when you’re loved, to start again,
And it’s easy, when you’re loved, once more you’ll laugh...”

(...heard nothing to hear something...)
“If you can’t believe in love,
Make patterns in the rain,
This lonely game you play,
Will haunt you once again...”

“So don’t believe you’re always on your own,
Your love will surely bring you home,
Once again, you sit, and laugh,
At patterns in the rain...”

Those notes!  rising above the city,
above the lights and the harbor,
carried away by the breezes
to where any someone could hear it.

In the background, a doorbell rand,
but we did not answer it.
An alarm buzzed, a phone screamed,
but we did not awaken.
People yelled, gunshots rang, dogs barked,
but we did not listen.

Except for those notes!  carried away by the breezes
through the streets and into the returning mist
and into my mind, where it will always remain
to be forever heard.

The mist cleared, and I found myself
on a lonely small-town street,
back from the past and the future
and into the present.

I took my trumpet, and played a long, single note...

...to which a single sax note joined to create a beautiful harmony.

-        (all quoted lyrics are from the song “Patterns In The Rain” by Spyro Gyra, 1993)

Letters On A Flight

As I lay here, I begin to free myself from the

Boundaries of my mind and life

Climbing higher and higher, gazing

Down upon the life I’ve forged in the past and the

Eternity I have created by the roads I have chosen.

Flying endlessly through infinity,

Gliding on the winds through the atmosphere,

Hovering over an overwhelming and

Inspiring reflection of my

Journey through the skies of my life, where I have

Kept most of my happy memories and have

Learned from most of my mistakes.

Majestically through both day and

Night I fly, lit by the moon and stars,

Over cities, fields, valleys, and mountains,

Peacefully floating, going anywhere but nowhere,

Quietly going somewhere and yet everywhere.

Rain falls, but then the clouds go away, allowing me to

Spread my wings once again, for the

Timeless trail of my thoughts is forever

Unbroken, untouched, and ever-changing.

Very quietly, the soft jazz of my emotions

Whispers to me in a voice only I can understand

Xylophones and other instruments gently finish the flight

Yet it is never truly finished...

The Day The Sky Turned Grey

One day, sometime, somewhere,

The sky turned from blue to grey,

Except for the flashes of lightning.

One day, sometime, somewhere,

The air changed from joy to silence,

Except for the crashes of thunder.

One drop fell

then another

and another

and another five six eight eleven

until I could not count them anymore

(as I sat inside looking through a window)

my eyes fell from the sky and the clouds and the trees swaying in the wind and soon fell into a river forming in the gutter of my street and the river’s waves carried leaves and branches and my mind away from it’s happiness rushing to wherever it could go and the waves tossed boats and buoys and my mind inside of it’s wake and then a tree fell into my river and stopped the river’s flow but only for a second and i had no control and no idea and no concept of what was happening except to hang on to my tree

(hang on hang on hang on hang on hang on)

eleven eight six five four

three

two

one

it was then my mind returned and my eyes rose to the trees standing still,

as well as the clouds, and the sky.

That day, every time, everywhere,

The air returned to joy,

including the children playing in the puddles.

That day, every time,. everywhere,

The sky returned to blue,

Including the rainbow over the earth.