I move about in seasons I call my own knowing people, the names I sometimes forget, but not the back doors where diners are served. dogs like me, following my steps knowing something about me, liking the traveling I do. Kids think I’m funny, cause I never grew up, and … More I’M OK
A wave of voices claims pastures of air lifting up songs of worship and praise encouraging the downcast and healing broken hearts. The choir reaches into willing souls with keys shaped like notes turning locks and setting loose with words a fresh breath of life.
A willing sax throws out notes like hungry fishermen with long lines of baited hooks into deep swirling waters where souls swim as the wiggling masses tread close with thirsty ears and anxious hands breaking hard the surface calling them that want as eyes go wide and feet twist under shouldered sways while … More WHERE SOULS SWIM
The second self of me is the gift unwrapped. The adventure in need of a path. A stone to be dislodged. A bridge that crosses every part, leading to passions and fears. It’s a road without a friendly door or room without a place to hide; My second self forces me to sunlight. I’ll … More SECOND SELF
The key of salvation is the promise of turning the hope of the unseen sincere forgiveness received by faith established by truth peace and understanding where light casts no shadow and the faithful pray for wisdom while receiving mercy accepted by grace filled with joy a blessing beyond words while … More RECEIVED BY FAITH
The music of her is a ribbon untied and streams of silk break free like summer stars on the foreheads of angels as I feel the thick of myself, as if running under water becoming trapped in the listening of the jazz like the first time it blanketed me with a rocking upside down … More THE UPSIDE OF RELEASE
There is a thirst in my fire. A cloud heavy with wet, ready to release a river. In my head a muscle pushes rocks, forcing rivers to overflow, changing the course of brown gravel into the sounds of me. I am a prisoner of music. The maker of jazz and the roll of … More THAT JAZZ THING
Lifting waves of hands like vines circling, weave tapestries of surrender and praise for the beginning of a start or the end of long suffering. The message of hands provides comfort and rest, a blanket of protection, safety without words. An open and willing heart provides the opportunity for God to … More NEW BEGINNINGS
He begged the horn to breathe strong for him, to tell a story of pain in love, and love with pain His fingers danced on flat pearl keys spinning jazzy notes like the earth rolling through space. Pure gold sounds flowed richly as he taught the notes to fly into welcome air. … More INSIDE THE HORN
That black 33 1/3 circled the life of song spinning it out in round of rounds dark shiny onyx like Alabama nights pushed a sound of scratch and horns and bass with drums forming a jumpy beat as the man on ivories jams the air choking out a new sound … More CLEOPATRA’S OIL
Roger Singer 