-- I Can Hear the Music --

John Herlihy

I can hear it, the soft music,

The brook and the stream.

The ripples create sacred music,

Birds at dawn, falling spring rain.

Everything seems to take part,

All the fortissimos and pianissimos.

Arriving at the door of the heart,

All the arpeggios and the sad adagios.

And you, once a beloved stranger,

Arrived with your own subtle music.

Now beloved, no longer a stranger,

To create harmonies of blended music.

A melancholy harmonica, the lilting lute,

Melodies that float on passing winds.

We listen to the music, rendered mute,

The mind rejoices just as the face grins.

Infinities upon infinities, gently rocking,

This earthly music turns celestial instead.

Eternities upon eternities gently knocking,

As beatific visions soaring within my head.

Once upon a time, the music was gone,

Lost in sorrow and bereft of all harmony.

Not a note or cord, silence as a ghost song,

Waiting patiently for music and its epiphany.

The music of life breaks us down, lifts aloft,

Nature’s melodies heard in the roar of waves.

The voice of the wind heard with whispers soft,

Spring waters illuminating the darkness of caves.

The music of the spirit all comes together,

Melodic emotions that not otherwise heard.

All enveloped within a love that endures forever,

Stolen from the ancient tongue of a primitive bird.

Born of a mystery never on earth to be resolved,

Tempting us, enchanting us, desiring to be solved.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Friday 21 April 2023