re: Reincarnation

in the voice of God, I imagine believing

is the coming home of a youth

the fear leaving

soul searing whiteness of truth

the lucidity of greaving

in the Spring we're all absolute

life anew, no time for bereaving

Swell

with the exception of strings

you are my guitar

visualize this with me

all curves

rise to rush upward to the first dip

like a wooden skin rollercoaster

an E ticket ride

rise and fall of your sweet sound

rushing up to meet me

this is mine

rising up in crescendo, sings to me

amplifies in surging waves

as it hurricanes in fullness to a crescendo, or two

and corresponds to applied magic of the musician

pinnacle of perfection

and when reaching this beautiful crown

insatiable it begs to begin again in a new octave