I am a cello
alone in my beauty
inhabiting curves
like mountains inhabit
the space all around
so bright, luminous
and longing for hands
and legs all around
and the touch of fingers
on my strings tuned just so
like winds on the faces
of those shining ramparts
of stone, ice and lichen
that fall to the earth
in splashes of granite
and music like lava
slowed down by indifference
but still singing loudly
under the rainbow
across those tuned strings
and across my heart
for I am a cello
Charissa's Grace Notes 
Beautiful photo and good words. Thank you.
Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Amazing poetry by a talented writer. Please read and enjoy.
Another phenomenal piece! Again, I am utterly astounded with the grace of your writing. I adore this. Amazing work.
superb – we had slightly similar inspirations today
As I was an adolescent and into my later teen years; I learned and loved to play a Cello. This poem is so tremendous! And, as a matured adult, as well, I must admit the complementary photo image you have chosen here… Exceptional! 🙂
This poem and its emotional, cultural and personal meaning to me, is top-of-the-chart listed in my life.
Thank you for creating it and expressing its form and context. I feel it.
~ Eric
TRULY honored by your knowing comment. To have a cello player let me know that I got the gist of it is so precious to me