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?

writtensometime2008-2009/december2014edit

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