music lesson at the blind orphanage

little fingers
that tap and rub and glide and search,
running gleefully along smooth arms and over bumps
of unfamiliar nose and cheeks.
"what is that scent?"
"what color is your shirt?"
small face tilted up,
sunflower soaking light, sound, warmth,
eyes pinched shut in two crescent curves,
sewn by some invisible Hand while bones and skin and teeth
were still being knit in the womb.

the music starts,
ripples of notes that rise and fall,
bouncing off walls,
tumbling like colorful rockets spiraling through a field at night.
head bobbing, arms waving,
hands swatting and cupping air
as if trying to catch the notes--
fireflies on a cool summer evening--
or perhaps they are dancing--
dancing with angels that ride each note,
each iridescent swirl
a twirl
out of present darkness
into ever-growing light.


cups of coffee: 1 (but instant, that doesn't count)

mood: ahhhhhhh......