Opus 8 Poem by Ann ...

Wait, little Ludwig.
You do not yet know.

Look back now.

Listen. Hear the viola.
It sings only a child's
beautiful unusual crying nightmare.

And then you awoke
angry and older
to a world of silence.

Listen. Do you still feel
the hopeful vibrations
de le coeur de l’enfant?

Listen. Remember the sound
of what you, as a youth,
thought was weeping and laugh
the mournful laugh of
someone who has learned
what it is to suffer.

The work you cherished as profundity
has become silly and trivial.

But keep listening:
The dance begins again.