On Neal Schon’s ‘Blue Passion’
The swell and the tide.
Fade and temper.
A rising crescendo.
Strings of a dream,
Forgotten and Faded,
Alone and Unforgiven.
A cry and a plead
Swirls and pools,
Surrenders at my feet
As clouds race across the sky
To covet the Moon.
He brings forth a dance
Of stars.
He has written
Of days before.
With kisses burned
Into the sun,
The days fade away,
Yet the poignant Sorrow…
His love and his fingers,
Like strange marks of desire
That call for Passion.
A calming now.
He moves within my soul,
Never giving up on me.
He pulls the strings of my heart
And bears himself with love.
He haunts that place.
That place in a Dream.
A Blue Passion
He has created,
He has fulfilled.
He remembers.
Echoing.