Music, You . . .

You rekindle the light in me,
The true in me,
The one who joins all peoples of the world
In harmonies and counterpoints
To their rhythms,
Their keys and intonations,
Their passages pianissimi o veloci e fortissimi.

With you,
I am one whose consciousness expands
Beyond the seemingly solid walls of her apartment
To embrace the musicians,
The other lovers of these melodies,
These instruments and voices,
The composers
Alive or long since gone beyond.

You make me sing—
I love to sing,
And I remember playing guitars
That summer of ‘69 at the university;
One boy called his guitar Adele—
I don’t now know the boy’s name
And never saw him again,
But I recall playing Bob Dylan with him
And his Dylan-esque ways,
And I played for the adored Rick:
“No, I never got over those blue eyes.”

You ask me to remember
The creaky floors of Tower Records on South Street,
Of singing along with Pav and thinking of my love,
Of later, at Essene Natural Foods,
Singing along—more Dylan—
“But I was so much older then,”
And by then I had understood
The wisdom of growing younger as we age.

You ask me to spruce up my hair
For Zoom-on-Sunday choir practice;
The best is singing in the pews,
Floating on the alto and tenor harmonies,
The bass foundation,
The soaring descant—
I am a soprano, though I do not vocally soar,
Only inside,
But even so, my meager high notes thrill me.

You ignite the dancer in me,
And that I am,
Tap, line dancing:
Move your body and be whole
;
Once I ice skated to Galway playing Pachelbel’s Canon
And when I listen to the Canon,
I skate in my mind;
My closing spin is more secure.

With you,
I gather again
With my dearest ones who have stepped away;
We take our seats at the symphony, the opera,
And sing around the piano,
“Let the Sunshine In.”

You light my spirit
To embrace its creativity,
Remind me
Gray skies are beautiful,
I am not confined,
I am not old, just me,
It is not too late,
can still create,
Be,
Be a part of everything,
Am a part of everything,
Everyone,
All that is,
Even in virus time.

La musica è la lingua madre del mio cuore.

______________________

Notes:
“No, I never got over those blue eyes,” from “I Still Miss Someone,” by Johnny Cash and Roy Cash, Jr.
“But I was so much older then,” from “My Back Pages,” by Bob Dylan.
“Let the Sunshine In,” words by Ada J. Blenkhorn.

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