A Poetic Reverie Inspired By Music, Part One Poem by Daniel Brick

Symphony No.8 by Anton Bruckner

I. Allegro Moderato
Our Journey Begins

All of us know this, that there are
journeys we must make, long and short,
inner and outer, alone and in vibrant
company. We know this, it is our birthright
and our mission. It does not make provision
for rehearsal. It resembles going to a Symphony:
you find your seat, settle in, glance at
the program, then set it aside because
the orchestra is already tuning. A young man
directly in front of you is unusually excited,
and a lovely young woman nearby cradles the score.
The musicians await their conductor. Everything is
in readiness. The First Journey is like that:
we arrive on time at the appointed place, look
closely at our fellow journeyers, read their
excitement or note their lethargy. For a moment,
we doubt ourselves, are tempted to leap up and
withdraw from the adventure. We mumble excuses
for quitting. But the panic dissolves as quickly
as it formed, we stay and feel a deep commitment
to the journey. This is the moment of the Summons,
when rows of trumpets, trombones and tubas play
the Fanfare of Departure. The dense sound infuses
us with sheer power. Suddenly, we realize
we have taken the first step, a long stride
onto a road completely new to us and completely
empty. Alone and expectant, we approach the first
Threshold: an arch over tall trees, or an opening
in a row of hedges, or a peninsula connecting
the mainland to a small wooded island. Now we sense
what readiness really means: we are engaged, we are resolute.

II. Scherzo. Allegro Moderato - Trio: Langsam
Interlude

There is a moment on the Journey
when we are giddy with anticipation.
We assume we have passed the halfway point.
Some stragglers from other parties claim they
can smell the salt air of their destination.
Others recognize rock formations from earlier
journeys. A few even dance, or pretend to dance,
or just stumble about in a silly mood. Their move-
ments are heavy and awkward. We are sober, knowing
too well how long the road ahead truly is. We slow
our pace, and gaze longingly at the beauty enclosing
us, it is a time of Interlude. We realize we must
soon become resolute journeyers again, and press
forward, but for this suspended moment we are pilgrims
who have reached a shrine in the wilderness, we breathe
a sacred air into our tired bodies, and then, too soon,
we resume our pace toward yet another Threshold.