One day it simply happened
I stumbled on his songs
Thinking I'd never heard him before
In fact a song was already there
Buried in my MP3
But I had never listened
Until the day of my 65th birthday
That's the day I fell
Into the music of Bill Fay
And cried as the first unfurled
Waving to someone never met
But always known, in some place silent
Songs of Peace and god
Seeking redemption of the missing love
Unlocking the new language
That new-born worlds will soon require
Now that the time of time has come
And flowers must arise from stone
Reclusive in North London
Stored with a dusty piano
Ripe with gospel balladry
Waiting for an invitation
To roll that circle melody
Out onto the ghost-filled streets
Where I too ran and grew
Searching for this kind of art
At the crossroad of Dylan and Drake
Weaving in notes of Leonard's grace
Sunlight reflecting on itself
Music singing to itself
A call for our survival
Acknowledging the life
That his songs set loose
One repeated note away
From silence
Welcome in my life, Bill Fay
Your core soul-singing seized my heart
And I will surely not allow
Its tender grasp to let me go
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem