Composing

I see symphonies in the clouds,
violin bows drifting in ancient time,
my mind's eye time lapses -
and the music plays as I watch.

A synthetic wind from passing cars
blows my hair keeping time,
it metronomes my cheek
silently keeping the rythmn.

My soul makes this music from nothing,
out of the day I play internally,
the notes unsounded aloud --
are still astonishingly beautiful.