How I Wonder What You Are

The Master's hand poised, pulsating, the most pregnant pause there will ever be,

Then, legs spread wide, white bell bottoms seething with energy, a windmill-arm motion to strum the six super strings and Bang!

The one becoming the infinitely many,  harmonics by the trillions taking their turn in the limelight, reverberating, fading,

Like galaxies, like stars, like lives or days, or like the A which she meant to be a G and will correct the next time around,

My daughter teasing twinkle twinkle little star from the old cracked Baldwin, singing to remember the tune, voice as of yet still clear and free as space itself