jazz is the sound
of a thousand broken chains
ringing out through time
in the cadence of piano and brass;

jazz is freedom
dropped light upon my shoulders
like wings to lift me into the skies
through a brighter light
than has shone on me in silence

jazz spills joy
like cream overtopping the bucket
to the upturned, waiting mouths
seeking to drink deeply of
this life that falls from above

jazz rises
like the morning mist
bathed in the newborn sun
resurrecting dead souls
to stand blind before it
that they might be washed clean
and warmed by its embrace