Music is the transfer of energy
from musician to instrument.
Yet the song exacts a price.
With each exchange, energy is lost.
Even birdsong comes at a price.
Birds hurry back and forth
scooping up flying insects
to carry to their young.
Yet the song of cliff swallows
nesting against sandstone cliff,
sounds as sweet as the song of cliff swallows
nesting between stucco walls.
For, whether it’s weathered foot of hoodoo,
or side of superstition mountain,
wherever your feet are planted,
that’s where you sing.