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)
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