The Sound And The Texture Poem by Bill Mitton

THE TEXTURE AND THE SOUND

(For Joaquin Rodrigo)

We who hold the Moon and Stars
by familiarity and time
to be but baubles in the sky
and pay not breathless homage
at each and every sighting
should learn from you Joaquin
of the passion and beauty held
hostage within the vibrations
of air, ear and heart.

Nor we who do not turn
In smiling, joyful, wonder
towards the scents of
green meadows mown
and glades with flowers strewn
or cannot see within your song
a summer’s invocation
and yet feel not shame
within our sin of ignorance.

You who held within your senses
as if in loving gentle fingers,
the perfect weaving of
the song of birds in flight
magnolia scent upon the air
As from within its falling waters
you took the fountain’s song
and gave the world a portrait of
Aranjuez’s, fragrant, verdant, story

I wonder how in your darkness
you captured the colours of life
and made them dance and shine
upon the strings and timpani
Before in a night’s turning a child died
and your heart knew sadness
the song became a saeta,
for your child and Christ crucified
so your pain became a hymn.

Rodrigo we who listen with our hearts
need no eyes to understand
the colours that your music paints
for love controls each brushstroke
and your Spain became the canvas
from which you drew each breath in life
The world is weary now Rodrigo
And we are blinder that you ever were
For you had always known the secret
of the textures held within life’s sound