What happens in heaven?
Will I sit on a cloud?
Is walking or talking
Or jumping allowed?
Will I be on my own
Or with some of my friends?
Does it go on for ever
Or eventually end?
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
You want to know how I spend my time?
I walk the front lawn, pretending
to be weeding. You ought to know
I'm never weeding, on my knees, pulling
clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact
I'm looking for courage, for some evidence
my life will change, though
it takes forever, checking
each clump for the symbolic
leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already
He drowsed and was aware of silence heaped
Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls;
Aqueous like floating rays of amber light,
Soaring and quivering in the wings of sleep.
Silence and safety; and his mortal shore
Lipped by the inward, moonless waves of death.
Someone was holding water to his mouth.
He swallowed, unresisting; moaned and dropped
Through crimson gloom to darkness; and forgot
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?--
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
Music is the key to my heart
But i wish didn’t play such a big par
I wish i was smart
But music is still the key to my heart
Does that mean I'm not smart?
Why does my mouth feel tart?
When I talk about my heart?
I just wish music wasn’t they key to my heart
Music spreads its wings all over the firmament. It lights up the world below---a myriad of sounds and colours burst from the river of its soul so poignantly—an invitation to the realm of endless beauty and wonder.
Music says: life is for love, beauty, joy and celebration and all that which transcends over pain and sorrow- first the suffering but, lo, the light shines after the end of the dark tunnel and once more our hearts revive and we begin to embrace life all over again, in greater intensity and gratitude. The heart breaks a thousand times but is reborn--even if such resurrection comes very slowly.
Life is an endless river and we flow with it but it is only in love and faith, in patience and the pursuit of truth that we become what we dreamed to be. Once we have arrived at the pinnacle of what our heart has longed for over so many years of the past, we will then be larger than life--and even death itself- those who dwell in love and faith live immortally in their hearts. copyright 2023
How cleverly is music made,
Just from a dozen keys!
How beautifully is it played,
The list’ning ear to please!
Variety, the spice of life,
There is in many songs;
And music lessens all our strife,
And mitigates our wrongs.
As the last pale notes of summer’s song
Tumble sideways and down the weathered path
I step out into the night
To walk in tempo with a symphony of stars
The anxious conductor stands at attention, baton poised
But tonight I’ve no need for him
I’d rather listen in rapt attention
To the wisdom of frogs