That it begins.
And like a wave which appears
only to lose itself

in dispersal, rising whole again
yet incomplete in all but
form, it returns.

Music. The true magic.

Each day the sun passes over the river,
bringing warmth to it. Such

devotion inspires movement: a cello in the
darkness, the passage of sparrows. Sighs.

The currents are of our own
making. If we listen do we also

hear? These bodies. These silent voices.

* * *

“Requiem” was written in the 80s, in response to a piece of music. It made its most recent appearance here in November 2016.


34 thoughts on “Requiem

  1. I love this poem, the wave losing itself in dispersal only to rise again, just as music does in the playing, even in the inner repetitions, remaking itself. So much of that “self-similarity” weaving the world together. Would you mind if I used your poem in a blog post, giving full attribution, of course, with a link back to your site?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. the cello gets me every time… wonderful piece!

    I sang Rutter’s Requiem back in the day and it remains one of my favorites – I still sing the Lux Aeterna alone in my little apartment (probably much to the annoyance of the neighbors)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Music Like Waves, Rising, Dispersing | Deborah J. Brasket

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.