[again, to Van Cliburn - on Debussy's sunken cathedral-]
searching for songs between the keys
I dreamed you were alive
rifling the music in the piano bench.
a something's missing in the world since you left
the metronome's set to zero; snowfall lost
in the interlude can't find its way home
not even by Christmas
and all things mourn uncharmed
in the lock box of Beauty
stashed- forgotten?
oh polish the early etudes like the sun again;
the scales like mother of pearl
and every phrase you knew
in the midnight's practice room, again though
it is true
the cherry concertos ripen over time
recording to recording,
shine!
still is the april of music since you were here;
snow drifting are the sounds, and we must
build the cathedrals anew from note to note
within our quiet hearing
until in rainbow pools they sink again, out of sight
into the lake depth of our hearts
mary angela douglas 21 september 2014
