Jazz at Fourth Presbyterian, Chicago
Ozzie’s soprano sax
bouncing off the stone walls
drowns the noise beyond the walls,
of horns and sirens and chatter,
inducing trance a like state amongst the pilgrims
gathered, seeking refuge from the city
in which signs abound
announcing an ordinance and a five hundred dollar fine
for feeding pigeons.
What’s there left for an old man to do?
Maybe listen to music
allowing it to diminish the now
so that he can recall days of joy
while longing for that new day
in the presence of a benevolent God
who’ll feeds even the lowly sparrow.
Then the pigeons will feast on more than a dropped fry
and the notes of the sax will echo off the stars.
Ozzie’s soprano sax
bouncing off the stone walls
drowns the noise beyond the walls,
of horns and sirens and chatter,
inducing trance a like state amongst the pilgrims
gathered, seeking refuge from the city
in which signs abound
announcing an ordinance and a five hundred dollar fine
for feeding pigeons.
What’s there left for an old man to do?
Maybe listen to music
allowing it to diminish the now
so that he can recall days of joy
while longing for that new day
in the presence of a benevolent God
who’ll feeds even the lowly sparrow.
Then the pigeons will feast on more than a dropped fry
and the notes of the sax will echo off the stars.
Hi Sage,
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by my blog :)
I like this 'noteworthy' musing. Wish I could have heard the sax-- what a great instrument!
I was in Chicago last fall and I did feed some pigeons. Uh-oh. ;)
I cannot tell you how much that just cheered me up... I was feeling pretty sad about my brother-in-law being in the coma still, and to read the lines about the benevolent God who'll feed even the lowly sparrow - wow! And thank you!
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