Inside it is always reigning/raining Miles.

You can go into any jazz club,
Any jazz cabaret, any jazz class on the planet,
Any era, anywhere, anytime,
Yesterday to tomorrow
You can open your JAZZ GPS
To the north, south, east, or west,
You can travel to any continent,
Any time day or any night.
You can arrive as Early as daybreak dawn
 Or as late as timeless tomorrow.
Imagine Walking into any Five Star posh palace
Or Out of nowhere into any dangerous diva dive.
No matter what the weather is outside,
 inside it is always reigning/raining Miles.
Before you hear the first note… you hear the first note.
Before kismet kisses you on your forehead.
You Exhale and suddenly…
You are slow dancing with de ja’vu.
You are seen,
You are held,
 You are known,
You are home. 
You are loved.
inside it is always, always reigning/raining Miles.
His band is as tight as his sexy sharkskin suits
Adorned with snakeskin silk ties.
Fashion icons secretly smile with envy
Whenever Miles falls from the skies.
Imagine flying midnight with Birds of Paradise,
His band eats perfection for breakfast.
After hours joints nightly serves chicken sandwiches,
Red Hot jazz with Afro Blue ice-cold drinks.
His polished trumpets shine from cosmic stardust and African shay butter every night.
Mr. Miles Dewey Davis. III.
Born 100 years ago. Born 100 years ahead of his time.
Troubled genius addicted to pure jazz.
Some say, his half-brother is Archangel Gabriel.
Some say, he taught him how to blow that heavenly, heavenly horn.
Blood brothers blending, bonding, believing, becoming, being free.
Every Saturday Solitude sadly slowly strolls in after sunset
 Every time Miles feels kinda blue.
She sits down, pours herself a goblet glass of ruby rose.
Shhh, not a word is spoken,
not a sigh, not a whisper,
not a sound.
One tiny, tender tear tells her story.  So What.
Inside it is always reigning/raining Miles.
Inside it is always, always reigning/raining Miles.

A poem for Miles Dsvis by enidpickett