In Praise of a Song

Though within me a game of emotions resounds

Melancholic, endeavoring chimes of sadness

Reminiscence mixed with suspense,

And I may ask myself “whence shall I run to quench mine endless angst?”

Then herein my symphony will I hold so dearly

So dearly as my onlest source of bliss!

Say they that in aptness shall mankind find calmness

But I think that in calmness man hides his utmostness

And in utmostness shrivels his consciousness

The power of soundmindedness…

But so have I chosen to hold mine tempest, my wildest

In the confines of symphonies

For when the ice comes out coldest,

Then shall I sing again my best to make me warmest,

O symphony, my truest and utmost friend…

There erupts in a lonely wild

An edge of cliffhanger sounds

Yawning into my being the longing for a sound, for a symphony

Then knowest I not the yonder of one song

Till I join in its deliverance and wonderful ambience

In its beauty and benevolence,

O symphony, my truest and utmost friend…

Music wails in my soul

Calling after me, after you

Music resounds in my heart

Calling out to me, out to you

It trails me away as I follow its path

Into the wild freshness of a sound

Into the deep keenness of a song

Ripping me apart and altogether mending my soul

Taking me up high and altogether soothing me right down…

O symphony, my truest and utmost friend…

I will seek thine refuge but not only in thee

But in the Master of such

For He has placed you in the innermost depths of me

That I may make men joy in His unending gladness…

Morris.