I hear the Violins,
Vouching for each trivial,
But fair feature of yours that lies chaste.

I hear the Violas,
Bearing the melancholy,
Your heart conceals deep within.

I hear the Cellos,
Pouring the velvety essence of love,
In my sullen ears.

I hear the Woodwinds,
Singing for beauty, calling for love-
All in unison.

But then the Clarinet disagrees,
For the sheer taste of dissonance.
There,the Oboe tries to moderate,
As the Flute flares up,
Emphatically proposing the passion be mutual.
Then the Strings intervene,
And all play in unison-
The purest articulation of the desire,
For love - yet unmet.

I hear the Brass finally,
With Percussion on its side,
Sounding as though Zeus were to erase Mount Olympus,
Arising turmoil,
Provoking the Strings and the Winds,
Ousting the gentle harmonies,
And ousting the gentle melodies,
And alas! ousting the very notion of love.

Yet,I love the symphony.
And You - are the symphony.
The most beautiful I've heard.

Gentle winter sun,
Peeking through the hazy window,
Fiddling with your hair as your head rested on my shoulder,
While, to Florence we journeyed,
Away from the Sicilian soil,
Whose Olives kept us captives for so long.

Oh! And remember how-
The Florentine pavements answered our footsteps,
And picturesque italian figures smiled at our liberty,
And how-
The sound of mandolin, and of accordion;
The carefree ramblings,the mindless tangos in the Italian streets,
And the sheer aura of it all,
Moved me-
And how it moved you!

But it was later in Vatican,
Ah! it was then,
When God became Michelangelo for me,
And you,the ceiling of Sistine Chapel.

What length dies sorrow,and dies joy what breadth;
What fool claims this 'the ecstasy of death'?
What show these withered springs,these summers dimmed;
Show what autumn leaves,but man's last cold breath?

Last vial of mirth spilt, and last vial of grief;
Lies what fun in this mockery of relief?
Awaits calm? And think lingers good ahead?
Stands but far from the prospect of belief.

All the hearts of lead,all the hearts of gold,
All the timid,meek men,and all those bold,
All the kings and subjects,masters and slaves,
Must all hear death,hear all its truth told.

Death is dull and cold,death is all but joy,
Death is nature's decree,death is God's toy.

'What do you do these days?'
I count seconds,and minutes,and hours.
I count grey leaves and petals of flowers.
I count the blinks of my tedious eyes,
I reckon the distance of distant cries,
Faint and futile.
Muffled and still.

What can I do,
When happy,young days are past,
Or so apparently seems?

I sat by the window,peering into the street.
That street I had seen too many brawls in,
And had enjoyed the people celebrate,
And had seen people leave and come,
And had known those kids,who played there,
Fading into the nothingness of adulthood.
I was one of them too,perhaps.

In that tattered dress of life,
I sat by the window,
Looking into the past.
And tears came out paving my cheeks,
For a stream of unchartered emotions.
And those emitions welcoming a whole stampede,
Of memories,killing me inside out.

While by that window,
Whose glass had been blurred by the ruthlessness of time,
I hesitated to face myself.
I had regrets,too many to name any,
I had done myself wrongs,
But quite fortunately,forfeit was to be paid,
And was to be paid the next day,by myself to me!

The ensemble was quiet.
And strange voices talked.
While I stood by the pillar against the big wooden door,
Looking around to see if I could dance that night.

Lights hung low from the elegant ceiling
Of that hall,built with a distinct victorian taste.
A girl in pink, sitting by the staircase, rested her cheeks on her hands,
Looking around to see if she could dance that night.

Then the ensemble played.
Lights grew bright.
The hall turned into a boundless ballroom.
And music moved the numb hands and feet,
To chase each melodious note,
Down a surreal abbey,
To the realm of a passionate,ecstatic relief,
I had not witnessed before.

This cast a spell.
My eyes sparkled.
Her eyes sparkled.
We moved toward each other,
With an irresistible air of this divine passion guiding us through.
So we danced that night,
To the 'mellow' waltz.
And we danced thereafter,
To the 'mellow' waltz.
And we danced infinitely.

You just happened to smile
For you, no big deal
For me, the true sun shone
deep inside me, warm

Another day, maybe two
You did it again
Confirming my theory
Smile equals Life Inside Me

Yeah, Science is Dope
Your smile is crack and I am
Addicted to it
And there’s no rehab for me

Copyright © 2018 - Zane Safrit - All rights reserved