Daily Opus

 

I never stopped hearing music

in everything.

From the moment that I wake,

and on,

and on.

A never ending accompaniment.

Unyielding musicians pit.

Describing emotions,

scenes,

settings,

and confrontations,

in an ever-changing concert

in my head.

 

In the morning,

the song rises from the stillness

of the pre-dawn dark,

carries me through the day’s preparations

and goads me carefully,

through sometimes, not gently

on to the next movement.

 

Embedded in the daily cacophony,

of work,

and news,

and war,

and weather,

and struggle,

there winds a filament

of tuning wire

that hums on the level

of some divine resonance.

 

It picks up the radio,

or pulls words

and rhythms from the noise,

to compose some song,

and the day

cantors along with this beat,

set by the fires of chaos.

 

The evening winds down

with finality.

The final movement,

come from rising crescendo,

down to our eventual resolution.

 

Low drums,

bass,

and strings,

or perhaps the lonely soloist,

lamenting the night.

 

The music ends

when sleep comes.

Silence in the backstage party.

Travel time,

from gig to gig,

show to show,

as it, must always

go on.

And then the day comes again.

 

Eyes open,

and the band strikes up

another old favorite,

or perhaps something new,

cobbled together in the moment

by the tireless subconscious.

 

The orchestra plays,

the heart beats,

and the body moves

to these rhythms of life.

 

 

HG – 2020

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