FROM THE STRINGS

A sound I hear,
In tune but bizarre,
Like it’s coming from the vibrating,
Strings of my guitar,
I can feel the pressure,
Of my fingers on the frets,
That pain in the wrist,
And those fingertip threats,
It’s like listening a song,
Inside a waking dream,
Picking with the fingers,
As smooth as the river stream.

Sometimes in dreams,
I wake up at night,
Just to hold its neck,
And have a delightful sight,
Then as I tap my fingers,
On the hard melody threads,
And pluck out the music,
From the tightened deads,
I hear my feelings,
In the form of a rhyme,
A few good, and some absurd,
Getting in tune with time.

A sound I hear,
Very familiar at the start,
Like it’s coming from the pulsating,
Strings of my heart,
I can feel the pressure,
Of my blood in the veins,
That makes me aware,
Of my joys and the pains,
It’s like listening a song,
That only I can hear,
And I choose what I want to be,
Defined and clear!!!

©Varun K. Sharma