Music and the Years
We trade hours of practice
for those occasional few seconds
when everything really works:
harmony and cadence joining forces,
locking down perfection for an instant,
always wishing there were more.
This time those instants fused,
becoming phrases, whole songs
boring a hole into our core.
Long after the clapping ceased
the sound would not let me go.
It went on singing, in brain and soul,
its memory invading me night and day.
Not a re-creation, but a reminder,
that what had been was still alive.
Other concentration seemed impossible.
I ignored that, craving the invasion.
It diminished, then faded, of course,
and life’s common moments seeped in.
Yet, even retreating, music left an opening
in the softly-walled space where it waits.
And, faint now, I hear it everywhere.
Charles B. Neff
November 10, 2013