Calling, calling is his prayer
The strings of his soul dispel despair
The music within is ever heard
Known to his heart is God's word
Confusion and chaos in great abound
Within his world a purpose found
The music, the cello, his being, his glory
And told is the Soloist story
Beethoven to fill his chambers of pain
'Tis the music and God to call his name
Colors in resounding rapture and light
His soaring soul these moments in flight
From the shackles of judgment he does flee
In sonorous ascension his spirit known free.
Rose Marie Raccioppi
The Cello Player, 1896, Oil on canvas, Thomas Eakins, American, 1844-1916.
5 comments:
What a lovely poem! It is filled with emotion and vision.
Cello is a great instrument.
Thankyou for sharing as always!
Marissa
Among the many joy filled activities for Mother's Day weekend, my youngest son took me to see, "The Soloist." It is indeed a movie that touched me so very deeply. Upon my arrival home, between tears, reflections and a deeper awareness of what music has come to mean to me, and those who devote their life to its lure, I wrote the "Tribute to Nathaniel Ayers". Thank you for visiting and allowing my words to be heard.
There is an inherent need to communicate, to be heard, to be understood and ultimately to be known to ourselves. "The Soloist" brought these very needs before us. That is what made it such a powerful and impressive experience.
Someone asked me recently, "What CDs do you own?" I answered "None"...because all the music I need is being played almost continuously in my head. I can 'hear' whole symphonies, just like as if I was conductng them. My interpretation over-rules and CD. And my 'orchestra' is major, major.
Sometimes my wife will ask in the beginning of a day, What is playing?, And i'll tel her what today's concerto or quartet is playing. Always stuff which I have played, of course!
You Do write interesting blogs...gotta look up your book of poems. 5/27/09
Steve, I too, feel the music within. I am never bored in silence. Silence allows much to be heard. The state of NOW puts the din of the past to the past and allows new vistas of potential to be known. The poetry I write comes from that space of quiet that allows itself to create. Thank you for your comments.
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