Thursday, January 4, 2018

Dream Mali

the book on harvey’s shelf
said dream mali,
i thought.
dream mali
because that’s
what i’ve done
so often
is dream of mali –
the circular guitar lines
that rise as coiled
streams of desert air
and the voices sounding
forth like
blue light rushing

i’ve dreamt of mali
and timbuktu
and fortresses of books
and other knowledge
kept only in the mind
and shared in stories
told beneath a great
desert moon or sun

dream mali
how could i not
after hearing oumou sangare
sing or ali farka toure
coax serpentine blues
from a steel string guitar?

it all rings out to me
as a dream 
even when
i’ve seen mali
in reality
like at the mca
when roswell rudd
trombone-lead
a band of percussion
and lightning marimba
through trance song

or when i hear mali drone
and ricochet
in appalachian
banjo song

i looked again at
harvey's bookshelf:
dream mail,
that was the title
dream… mail
dream mail/dream mali
perhaps each of them
brings us to the same
destination of blessing