-- The Soul of Music --
by John Herlihy
Music emerges from the cave of a fine instrument,
Drawn from taut strings by the caress of a taut bow.
The happiest, saddest, most melancholy of sounds,
That sweetly enter into the air, the ears, the heart.
Whenever the violin bow is taken into the hand,
A new world, a new beginning about to happen.
The music moves out into the air, into the fields,
Through the weeping willows and leaves of trees.
Music rides the wind that gives voice to melody,
Subtle vibrations lend sonic roar to ocean waves.
In entering the light, the music is fused with light,
The violin weeps in the shadows of soft moonlight.
A shaft of light illuminating shadows as sad adagio,
The first drops of rain mimic the notes on a piano.
Music has power to alter the banal into the sublime,
Music transforms the empty heart into fullness mine.
Music invades night silence with its mystical power,
Music fills the silence of a room at the midnight hour.
How it is that melodic sound can make us stronger,
That sonorous sound can induce in us such wonder.
A simple tune with force to reduce a person to tears,
The soul of a sad harmonica lingers for endless years.
What of the accordion to accompany a beautiful voice,
What of the lute whose lyricism makes the heart rejoice.
When wind blows, stately daffodils nod in agreement,
Whispering sweet sentiments that ride merrily the wind.
In the face of so much beauty, how can we be afraid,
How art is an astonishing comfort for the human soul.
The soul of music echoes into ears, shines into eyes,
In twilight silence, a distant melody offers surprise.
We have no certainty, we live with the joy of wisdom,
Wisdom serves as brother until we reach the final gate.
The soul of music resonates as the music of the soul,
The notes, the cords, the harmonies can make us whole.
The sound of music as breath, as wind, as spirit, as light,
As music that transforms worlds in the darkness of night.
Come into the light of things with music as your teacher,
Lift the veil on physical things, music their chief feature.
With melodies stirring the air, silence was never so golden,
Let us give thanks to birds, to their song we are beholden.
- - - - -
Copyright ©John Herlihy
Saturday 11 January 2025
Share
Print
Save
Follow
My attempt at music started with the piano when I was 7 and ended with the piano accordion when I was 16 wanting to go outside and play baseball rather than practice the heavy instrument on a beautiful day.
But I've always loved music and especially when it matched the mood. I have a video of Navajo flute music on the van radio as we drove in a violent windstorm through Monument Valley where the wind was kicking up dust and the music was matching the rhythm of its flow.
Or the time I visited the eccentric professor with a house full of antiques. He pulled out a fiddle that he said he traded off an old man on a mountain with another fiddle. He told me to look through the holes and I read the signature of the maker – Stradivarius. And then, he took the bow and drew a note across the gut and it was a sound so pure and so clear that could reach across a large auditorium without any application or modulation.
Gave me goosebumps.
Ron