Appalachian Symphony
Drink this! Morning air and light.
Birdsong in an old-growth forest
at dawn, the moving shapes
of exotic butterflies — so many species
flying in from a dream of mountains.
The Red River Gorge,
arch of rock, ripple of water
under a stone bridge
where time unfolds in the touch
of an arm or a leg
under water.
This is where music
pulls you out of a dream
into the warm Kentucky air
into the cave of
memories of the mountain,
a picnic by the river
where you found the agate
that morning.
The river rippling silver
and the sound of a banjo
inside an early summer wind
where a symphony
reveals itself
in the voices of the birds
and a synesthesia of butterflies.
Listen to the music
your fingers reveal every morning.
Listen to the wind’s
mysterious song.
— Diane Frank
