Music And Its Currents Poem by Daniel Brick

A variation on Rilke's line,
"When my soul touches yours,
a great chord sounds"

What chords did we hear
sounding again and again
in cafes, gazebos, gardens
and silent, hidden places
we alone can find? We heard
bass notes as if they rose
from depths of ancient cisterns.
When we listened a second time
to melodies weave and wander
in watery harmonies, a staircase
descended for us to climb. And so -
we did. A vista of trees and
rough paths spread out below us.
We could see for thirty miles distant.

Oh, we belong to the brightest spots
on earth! Our chords will sound
their purest tones, and fulfill
their mission of perfect pitch
in every song. It's as if we saw
a rope ladder strung between two peaks.
The other peak was grassy and and rugged.
Our longing to be there was sufficient force
to put us there. We were fleet, light-footed,
and we slid down that ladder at sickening
speed, but the lawn cushioned our arrival back
at the site of our departure. New chords echoed
between mountains. We were still, we were listening.
The song of a yellow canary was carried
by a gentle wind, as blithe andbright
as the morning light which contained it.