Many thrive in I-IV-V,

Cleaving to familiar chords,

Heart steady as a metronome

Until they return home.

Others crave descending bass lines,

Gliding down the half-tones,

Letting logic lead the way

Until their journey’s final day.

Daring types take giant steps,

Hurtling like a mighty train past

Chasmic, cosmic changes,

Fed by fire till they retire.

A few crash through discordantly,

From measure one convention’s

Scarcely waved to from afar as

They approach the final bar.

I prefer to progress like Jobim,

Swathed in luscious harmony while

Unseen perfect changes reign,

Delighting in surprise,

May it be so until I close my eyes.