Absolute Truth

The footsteps of home,
they slip across a shiny surface
reflecting back imperfect reality,
and in shadow,
wisdom is discernible.

Blobs of gray
float like Plato’s shadows,
never revealing our destinies.
Our words create a chorus
of mild melodies,
automatic in discordance,
charged in harmony;
sounds knit together
as comforting as a thick afghan
passed down through a million hands
from great, great gran.

Wrap yourself in the sounds of tradition.
When a solo comes,
be sure to listen for:
the weavers inflection,
the sway of the lines,
the tone of each texture,
the fictional falsetto,
the vulnerable vibrato,
but most importantly, the silences.
There are the moments of absolute truth.

14 Comments

  1. abigfatcanofworms

    Very beautifully written. I must admit I got excited about Clair de Lune at the bottom. It was the last piece I ever tried to learn. I spent about 3 years on it. LOL. But that bit after the big chords and before the repeat of the beginning… the bit where the left hand goes all spidery… I could never get it up to speed which frustrated me so much because it is so completely beautiful. So drifty and floaty and extraordinary. Thank you for a beautiful combination of words and music.

    Liked by 1 person

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