dear charles,
(a dream note to charles lloyd, 29apr96)
you came to me in a dream
early this morning
the silver of your saxophone
glistening whole notes
long trane tones unfurling
lester subtle young tendernesses
rhythmically sophisticated lyrical flags
flowing within the wind melody
of your breath
so i had to write to you
you were passing through
the audience sharing great helpings
of honest horn musings
pain but no anger, bliss
that blossomed
watered by the dew of tears
as your gentle noise
whooshed into our ears
some of us inhaled sharply
& held the bellowing of the music
bottled within our bosoms
the seriousness of your song
transmuted into tangy blue smoke
& we became fiends
addicted to the music
you know, i had to write you
at one point you dressed in loose garments
i remember the off-white of natural cotton
a touch of blue (perhaps a knit cap) & a slash
of muted red, a belt? or was the flash
a sash or scarf? & sandals, no, slippers
yes, backless slippers
& yr legs were crossed
& some sister was singing
& your elegant obbligatos
sensuously caressed
with the patient thoroughness
of a mature man
more interested in intimacy
than the immediacy
of climax, you did a little jump riff
that set toes to tapping
& you also sang (in a funny soft voice,
slightly off-key) "lady,
lady,
oh lady
be good"
such gentle blessings as these
are necessary evidence
to persuade our sisters
that it is possible
for men to be humans
so i write just to say
i heard you
in my sleep &
realizing the depth
of dreams
i strive now to keep
the blessings of your sound
ringing within me
during my every waking hour
—kalamu ya salaam