This song,
graceful and light,
began playing inside
when you showed up
in my life.
I moved my fingers
over the keys,
here,
and with you,
trying to let it speak
for the heart of me.
It was light and fun,
and warmed a few dark days.
I can hear when I perfectly express
what I feel,
but I can’t avoid hearing
when I miss.
I fix what’s wrong
in that moment,
but in the background,
here and with us,
I can feel other distractions,
buzzing for attention.
I try to let myself reach
for a deeper space,
but I know this song
should not live there,
so I pull back
not letting it stay down there.
I sigh, as I accept that
whether it is a gift or a curse
I am always tuned into
something more
than the notes that ring out.
I can hear past the distracting buzz,
beyond what’s being played.
I cannot miss what lives
in the echoes of the spaces,
at the heart of a song.
And soon enough,
even before I’ve begun
truly finding
the heart of this song,
I break out in ache
from the vibration
of what I hear
so loudly clear
between
and beyond.
I cannot miss that these notes,
while beautifully tempting,
don’t belong with each other
for any longer than they live
in the moments I play
what will become
this unfinished song.
And because it won’t last,
I leave it thin,
a single layer,
devoid of the rich
accompaniment
I’d hoped would develop.
I want to linger near the end.
I don’t want to give up
because I like the notes.
And I can still feel
the vibration of the echoes
over the buzz of distraction.
But I stop playing
and wrap it up neatly,
taking my hands off the keys
while accepting through tears
that this isn’t right
for my heart or yours.
And even though it hurts
to leave this song unfinished,
I trust there are more melodies,
ones that cannot miss,
vibrating in the spaces
between the echoes.
They are waiting
to show up,
graceful and light
so my fingers,
moving over the keys
can finish the song
that is truly at the heart of me.
~ cj 2012.01.09
