Braids of Music Spells

Revive the conductor,
he is sleeping,
spellbound by
the composer's
voice in his head.
Like a prisoner,
captured
by his lovers,
he hides
in an elusive dream,
under the parapet
of his thoughts.
A desperate sigh,
all the instruments are
anxious to play.
They are waiting,
they are shaking
as the moon and
stars parade
illuminates the stage.
Violin strings
unexplored tremble,
seeking fingers
with hands,
and a bow to
caress them into
a tune.
Piano keys tempted
to be rediscovered
are frolicking through
an imaginary
prelude to a dialogue
of music, still naked.
Abandoned cellos,
screech like
moving scissors as
they twirl on their
legs.
Spellbound, trapped
in an abstract nap, in a
bed chiseled of
fear, the conductor
awaits ressurection
of desire.