Spider Web on a Breeze

Like a spider web caught by a breeze,
Sheets as bleeding seas of Debussy
And waves of ink crash thin shores and eddies.

At times, he knows not for whom he writes victories,
Tragedies, the shallows, the depths of emotions by ivory key.
Like a spider web caught by a breeze.

Every note carries him to his knees. He sees
Perfection is imperfection as fingers, pen, paper, mind are free
And waves of ink crash thin shores and eddies.

When he hears the first stanza of his song, tears of wet trees
Flow across his eyes, pages, as winds across the Hebridees.
Like a spider web caught by a breeze.

Black, white, the swells crescendo, mirror the moon’s pull on the seas,
Forté! The listener, even the prodigy, cannot contrive fully
And waves of ink crash thin shores and eddies.

The songsmith’s objet d’art lives on long after he is gone. Frees, leads,
Pianissimo, the tones of maple, rosewood, iron, ebony, ivory, carry
Like a spider web caught by a breeze
And waves of ink crash thin shores and eddies of distant seas.

Joel Shearer is a student at Wenatchee Valley College. He enjoys writing, music, and spending time in the mountains on North Central Washington. Inspiration could be behind a moss covered rock, that face you saw on the way to class, a newspaper headline, or even the way the light sprays color bands through a glass of water. Writing…art…is all about life.