Cadenza

Music as the Dreaming of the Soul

Photo by Bogdan Arhipov on Unsplash

We face the end of the line, the cadence ringing true, But with a trace of dissonance — the dreamer is not through.

The storminess where quiet lived, The softness killed the power Of the first, whose death is brought to being, At the closing of the hour.

The quiet night turns into day, The day melts in moonlight, And with each note, a ray of each, Combine in this motif, forthright.

But even the certain, the strongest of words Cannot yet keep their boundaries firm, For the mind of music can twist its lines, Then make it whole again.

The key is changed, transformed, made new, The sunny chord is now turned blue, And the deepest indigo is turned to light.

The one made of music turns away, From the ending to come at the finale of “someday,”

They run to the start, and play it again, It quickens our hearts, we forget the strain…

Oh, here it is, the finale is near, The hopes and the dreams and the tears, Of the listeners swirl in the heart of the giver. The cadence must come, the silence must reign,

And the heart of the dreamer be still.

But the thought lives on, the clock will be bent, The music won’t fail, its notes are lent…

To the dreamer.