Ringing the Changes
It's time to ring the changes, to create new patterns from the echoes of the old, each note to become a sonic stepping stone, traversing the sticky gloop of all my broken-down anxiety.
Ah yes, I'm ringing the changes, each note a lit-up drop of sonic essence, flowing to the next note and the next, to form a sequence so perfect in its peculiar prayerfulness, it has become a vertiginous angel, arcing and swooping through the dimensions of sound.
Fall to earth, you daft angel, but please land carefully. I must yet be wary of your dizzy heights, in case I slip.
Perch for just a moment on my piano with your wings wrapped around you, while I get used to ringing the changes, new patterns forming from the echoes of the old, note by note by note.