Visceral Vibrations

A classical guitarist

inhales the deep breath of

a singer poised to belt out a note.

A river of sound flows from his fingertips,

rippling through the air,

massaging the listener’s eardrums upon entry.

Flamenco skirts and cobblestone streets

take shape in the mind’s eye.

The classical guitarist’s performance

is not the dazzling spectacle of a rock star,

but rather a rare invitation to peek in

on an artist’s private workspace.

At times he closes his eyes, as if to forget

an audience is watching and fully tune in

with the visceral vibrations

his muscles know so well.

Guitar strings move like extensions of his skin,

master and instrument playing one another

in symbiotic harmony.

To an untrained ear,

the melodies sound arrhythmic, even erratic,

but to the master and his colleagues,

they make perfect sense;

a secret language only they speak.

It is enough

to delight in the sheer beauty

of those syllables,

foreign though they may be.

A measure’s final note

rings out

with a fading vibrato –

yes, the beauty is more than enough.



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