.
Carefully, resourcefully retaining plural forms of every noun,
this sorcerer was wont to say, “Geometries have lyricisms,
which, by nature, tend to calm the human fear of schisms,
upsets and cacophonies that seize and swat our spirits down
and keep them from their aim, which is to realize a miracle.”
.
This meant: to sing! – “to toss the tune up, over, in a spherical
smooth swing.” “Can’t awaken a thing without a song”
became the lyrics he’d apply to any melody not wrong
for them, confident its dance of words would serve empirical
intentions to enact unprecedented ecstasies of magical elation.
.
Soon every sound you heard from him was a conflation
of whatever rhythms, pitches, high or low or fast or slow
absorbed his genius inner ear to hear new harmonies to show
him how to make incarnate, and keep pace with, fresh creation,
the fresher for his singing “Can’t awaken a thing without a
song,”
.
No comments:
Post a Comment