Drop Slow Tears


Drop Slow Tears

The line
Between your eyebrows
Has deepened to a furrow,
And you have forgotten to sing
As chromatic dissonance swirls --
Drifts apart --
Unites.

I've turned your last page
And closed my eyes.
The church is gone.
The people are gone.
And we are ascending
The sacred mountain
Together,
You and I,
Faces shining
As we put out our hands
To touch our great, wise Muse.

What would happen
If we just let go
And trusted her?

What would happen?
A moment suspended like
Hildegard's feather
On the breath of God.

A moment like this.
Do I hear the thrumming
Of angels' wings?

I descend to the earth
And hear that soft rumble
For what it is:
A pedal tone.
I see the sleeves
Of your white robe
Fluttering,
Enhancing the choreography
Of your hands' release
From the keys.
And in the silence,
Reflected in the mirror
Our two stricken faces...

Oh, for more than a
Fleeting glimpse
Of such an eternity as this!

***

C.P. Warner
29 March 1992


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