Sink or swim
with her or him,

black or white
or dark or light,

look high and low
in rain or snow

for this or that,
tit for tat. 

Space and time,
rhythm, rhyme,

all these so dear
I’d like to hear

them every day,
if I may. 

Let it be,
set it free,

make a sound
that goes around

the world and back. 
Take the tack

that life’s a treat
if there’s a beat

and it swings. 
Strum those strings.