Sometimes I sing...
My lungs agonizing for breath,
So intent am I to burst
The emotion held within,
To let it pour out,
Shards of salt crystal
And rivulets of garnet
Forming at my feet
To the memories
Of harmonies we once indulged,
Voices raised into the night,
Forms trembling with resistance
To the power of the purity,
Until our instruments of flesh
Submitted to our small grand part
In the greater hymn.
Perhaps I am too harsh,
But I feel I croak my duties--
Minute notes here and there--
Phrases chords pauses left
Bereft of any former
Greater meaning for me.
The night is cold for me,
And my voice, though ragged,
Echoes hauntingly from hillsides
Lightly stroked to vision
In the darkness.
I cry my soloed duet
Without full acceptance
Of my fixed solitude,
Nor my tongue’s importance.
I don’t choose to be alone,
But one must have a proper
Partner for successful duet.
And yet within the valley,
Upon the forested hills,
Threads of mist and moonlight
Weave a wondrous quilt
For passion.
Perhaps in such warmth my song
Will again discover accompaniment.
Until then I will continue
My personal hymn,
Hoping my song will
Be harmonized with another's....
