90 To Constance
I want to learn from you the precision of dance --
How not to miss each hint of B flat and C sharp,
Each prompt of voices singing in metal and wood --
The wordless frozen order to speak and to move,
Each push to shift the top and the bottom in sound --
The ladder built for climbing from each falling down,
The hunting, chasing strokes of the whip in the beat
To tame the beast which hides in the jungles of fear,
Each promise blowing chaos away from the flute --
I want to learn from you the precision of mood.
|