"Stopping the flow of our music was like stopping time itself - All that promise, all that light, and the quality of the shadows we cast, was gone."
I hear a Drum calling out to me,
Though the Drum hasn't been played
At all recently to my mind,
Certainly, as they say, not in haste.
I hear too a flute, rising to the beat,
But haven't witnessed one of those being played
Also it seems in some considerable time -
I admit then it must be my mental state.
The world is shrinking, as Time fades for me
The more often I tell visitors not to come.
But I do treasure those far away days when
The drumming made all worries disappear
And the quality of shadows in the room
Was lighter as the flute played inside my head
And the shadows outside in the world
Held less fear.
"Making music in a duet was like layering shadows -
Where the negative spaces dappled and flickered with our fire."
In the quality of life's shadows now
Memory gets dimmer the thinner it spreads -
The counting down of opportunities
We have lived years
Of distant knowing from afar,
Each of our lives lived out
Beneath independent stars.
A friendship of opposites,
In many ways
In the straight-line choices made.
Rare days together we played music,
Sometimes, played at being in love -
But I wonder whether, if ever,
Either was enough?
Is it in the quality of such shadows now
Time too gets thinner the dimmer days become
And there are gathering ambiguities
In the failing light of love?
"In our duets music was built from silence in a very special way - It was like drawing curtains in a room to make people look more closely into the shadows."
I have too few souvenirs of you -
But more might only rankle now,
Like a list of things I have to do
To uphold some long forgotten vow.
Empty shelves are better
In matters of the heart -
I mean, If I had a box of your letters
Where precisely would I start?
I haven't played my drum
Since you have stayed away,
Yet I know it was my silence
Caused you not to come and play.
My fault then, to be so self conflicted,
To say I miss our music so,
Yet it was me that killed it -
Though why I still don't know.
"Like looking into a river where the light cannot penetrate, it is in the quality of such shadows, insight and harmony are perceived, and so one sees one's own part in the music."
Together we made a river
When we played -
Downhill, always downhill
The beauty that we made.
From some locus between us
There would form a phrase,
A ripple in the stillness,
Making a sense of place.
At best, Time was created
Where rhythm found a name -
At most, sound was celebrated
In the artistry of embrace.
From a duet of plaited silver
Playful knots and shapes,
A cascade always tumbling -
Like beauty being explained.
Always that tension between us,
Always that twilight of dawn,
Always that quality of shadows,
Where some new purpose was born.
And if now the river has run
And what was travelled is lost,
If now the flute and the drum are gone
And the reality of shadows is dust,
No worries, no river is gone forever,
No music is ever complete,
In time, again, the shadows will gather
And our music will flow through the streets.
As life is all about the shadows within
So music is all about the flow of time.
As love is all about two hearts' rhythms
So our duet is not for me alone to decide.
"Many play duets all their lives without realising it is not the music they are searching for! - I was the lucky one then."
Not playing duets anymore after 25years.