Ode to John Coltrane

He comes dressed in scales,
Robed in blue notes
And riding a dragon,
Bringing chaos
And dragging order
In chains,
Reshaping the destiny
Of form.

At times
He seeks the purpose
Of the soothing seas,
Casting soft undulating waves
Creeping onto aural shores.

His voice through the reed
Trickles in like a stream,
You don’t know
What is around the next bend
But he guides you
Through the stepping stones
Until you arrive
At the waterfall.

And there waits the train
That runs ahead
Where none had dared venture,
And his voice becomes a sword,
A frantic assault on reason;
His instrument becomes a weapon
That tears into the consciousness
And lays waste to the calm,
Leaving you in tatters,
Wondering how something so terrifying
Could be so liberating.