Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Pictures to Paint, 1.3

The Night I Lost the Music

The music, always coming, always flowing
The lifeblood of the soul, forever playing
I lived for keeping, growing, sharing, knowing
all about the gift that’s almost praying.

And then, with one fell dose of Caesar’s illness
I shook, I trembled, foamed, and flailed about—
And when I woke, I noticed first the silence.
The music! gone!—replaced with frightening doubt.

The man in white, with nurses standing by him
Told me the silence might be here a while
And if it ceased, the music still be dimmed—
                     I wept.

I wept, and still, the tears were only water--
no minor chords; melismas all at rest.
Is this how people think and talk together?
With flimsy words and empty sentiment?

My life has been immersed in music study
but more than this; my spirit speaks it clear--
and now that I have only words to pray with

I wonder, Lord, if you can even hear?


Note: She had full recovery from the seizure and the music eventually came back.

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