Finding a kid with a saxophone on the street*
"Hey! You could be a John Coltrane!"
Me almost gushed,
Seeing the kid playing his fingers
On the keys, tapping them generously,
And the breeze was flowing there cool,
"Somewhere it might've rained"
The kid, wiping his mouth, said,
Getting ready for another tune,
"Me and my only Love?"
I made a request,
The breeze was cool,
The pavement looked musical,
People in the twilight were returning home,
The city seemed to be sacrosanct,
Poetry blooming upfront,
The kid asked instead,
I looked at his saxophone,
"How you do this , boy?"
I again, gushed forth,
The boy, in a simple jacket,
His face had the eagerness of a child,
I remembered so many things,
Kenny G, John Coltrane,
All getting mixed up,
"Coltrane is my favorite"
The boy said, his face by the dusky sky lit,
I looked at the boy,
The saxophone, in his hand,
Hung by a belt
Round his neck,
"A love supreme?"
The boy was asking me,
As if , I was to play something
And he was putting forward,
"Play as you wish...
I just listen to you
For you can create a heaven
And I am just a passerby"
The boy looked at me,
A millisecond passed in between,
Still we are standing,
A sparse population
Music they all wanted to hear,
I could see the people,
A child with his grandpa,
A waiter of a restaurant,
A vendor selling paperbacks,
A teashop owner,
A broker from Antique shop
A smart corporate honcho, (booted, tied, sleeved, white collared),
And the kid started to play,
As if music was the thought of the breezy day.
(*Note : the painting as attached was done by Alexander Hodyukov.
The painting is attached to accentuate the theme of the poem/scribbling.
#Bluetrain: John Coltrane's piece of music
#ALoveSupreme: John Coltrane's piece of music)