Lost and found

The mood the blues the pretty faces.

My heart goes thud that the double bass plummets the notes to the tap of the drum. Each beat a vibration that resonates to the jazz that is life. Those dreams of melody that take you from the slows to the highs, where my heart and mind are on different journeys both trying to find the soul. Yet the noise and the chaos of the chairs tearing the floor, and the twang of a foreign language are melodic to my migraine. That pound for pound of noise as my heart is dragged through my body to the place it left months ago. Oh the reality of a dream, the interest in what could be, is just as painful as that weight of flesh between the head and the heart. Yet how the inspiration of beauty of body, and dream of touch in smiles and laughter of memories lost can still inspire. Inspire to lift and float on cork floors, and walk in grassy field as soft breaks of blades of grass release their aromas for your pleasure. What life is lost on lost paths of dreams of days to come. Yet those dreams are lost in days that have not yet arrived! That inspiration of beauty that could be grasped, yet grasped to soon, witheres as held on so tight, yet grasped to late is lost in the chaos of life. How is such magnificence appreciated from far away when the soul of touch so near to the heart. How is that beauty framed by a smile kept in the heart with out a hook to hang it from. Instead it floats free, to drift between mind and body to swiftly raise each to its own. A beauty lost, yet always found.