Aaron Ostrenga, 27 is a talented young man inspired by Shannon’s musical style.
As an avid fan for over five years, Aaron’s poetic writings flow while listening to her musical interpretations. As a senior at Mt. Mercy College, Aaron has completed his AA Degree and is working toward a BA in English with a minor in journalism.  Aaron's creative work is displayed below.

 

    












 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hands in Motion

Hypnotic movement, traveling in beat, knowingly tickling ivory scales. 

Tapping with lightness, followed with force. 

Expressed from an invisible pattern. 

One not necessarily the notes on the page her eyes see. 

More over, the map her fingers follow stems from a childish joy we all forget in adulthood. 

A little light coloring our most unique actions and crafts. 

Her fingers move with these childish lights, making every movement magic,

 and every flowing tone remind us of our own inner lights.

 

By the Seaside Nocturne

Style of the day right now is where I stand,

looking off the precipice of time...

out where we cannot see,

sight gone in dawn's last hour,

we never know why we wish to see.

"Lost Psalm"

Lost, out of day.
I wish to meet you.
Where did you go.
Out where I can't find you.
The distance is a barrier,
to my thirst to see you.
Experience the smell off your hair.
Touch your skin.
I know I'll see you again.

    
 

“Lost thought”

 A mood,
lost in time,
blown on the wind,
my memory,
scattered past barely known,
fanned by wind,
into loss I cannot place.

 I remember less today of my happiness,
My brother and I in the snow,
Purple flowers of spring scent,
Why can’t I recall these things today.

“Giggle recall”

 There coast memories on wind swirls,
brought to me in my laughter,
bobbles,
moments treasured,
radiant as sun through colored leaves in autumn color,
my treasured thoughts,
you brought me back my smile.

    
 

In a Leaf

Fall burns in brilliant hues.
royal purple,
iridescent reds,
captivating golds.
Sunsets born by branch,
by tree.
Fated to be blown free.
Creating an impermanent world of color.
Fated to leave with the brief season.
Savor each moment,
as it fades before the dusk.

 

In the Green

The green holds secrets.
Only beholden to the chill, the cold.
Reveal the golden hues,
bring out sunsets,
falling free,
sprinkling the Earth below to paint a lovely canvas.
Green surrenders it's treasures,
fading to brown,
patiently waiting to color the next year.

“Night Colours”

 -Childhood dreams.
-Stuffed puppy dogs.
-Bunnies with bells.
-The smell of my favorite blanket,
stained with tears,
worn with love.
-Dad staying with me until I sleep--
-In my sleep I recall my mother’s touch
-How do I remember my dreams when I wake

    
 

 

"Gordon's Psalm"

A man lost his days.
Strife in life confounds him,
filled with danger,
the stress let him look to see…
light in sound.
So pure--
it touches the soul.
No one who heard such light,
could deny the feelings it evoked.
Of times past in homes,
where family dwell and familiar birds still sang,
even when pain dominates reality,
the song's light says,
"I'll be home someday soon."

Rag time style

-Happy hands

-stand up

-move in beat

-we love to move.

    
 

"Lounge Zen"

My mind stilled to the sound of a melodious piano,

keys tapping-touch,

Lightly lilting a song through the air.

Allowing bodies to relax and souls to sit at peace when some souls cannot normally find still peace.

Relaxing as if in a Zen Garden, with gentle curves, quiet colors to sooth the eyes, filled with no other sound but the whispered wind,

rustling leaves, feathery flap of birds on wing,

and the fish,

golden-orange-blue-colors shimmering,

randomly add a flowing splash to announce their presence,

if only briefly.

What a way for the mind to find rest from life's tireless race.

"Tree Dream"

Yesterday,

when I lived at my home,

carefree from life's woes,

I recall days of frolic and free fancy,

my three friends and I,

we cared little more than for fun.

In the sun-

we played war and tag and more-

house and shopping-

frisbee and catch-

and,

when the rain was light and the leaves green,

we'd sit,

dry and safe beneath a sheltering tree,

talking and laughing below clouds,

as rain falls sweetly around us,

peaceful,

 tranquil,

I remember our smiles here the best.

Just me,

my rain memory,

and my friends.