The Great Orchestra
#5 of Poetry
Wherein I describe my one true religion; not what you think it is.
Kneeling down to face the speakers, The thudding of my heart syncs up With every thud that jumps from the subwoofer, Rolling cross the floor to crash upon the walls; I feel the cold breath of sound, Shuddering waves of passion, They slide across my skin with velveteen fingertips And soak between the nothingness in my atoms.
O, gracious and all-giving god or goddess! You, who whispers to me when I slumber, Who announces the day with brightened hymns, Punctuates my moments with battle cries and balladeers-- You, the saviour of my aural soul, Lay your tattered cloak upon me; Protect me from the perils of quiet.
Religion never came too easily, Books of rules and regulations old That warned against pleasure and endorphins, Built fences against emotion and elation.
But I am no atheist--I believe in something more, An entity strong and fluid, intense and comforting, A warm meal and a harsh drink. The great cosmic noise that encircles me, Shields me against the winds of lesser-thans, This great harmony of stars and dust That manipulates our bodies, letting our fingers learn, Feeling the strings of a guitar slide beneath, Or the keys of one hundred pianos all howling, Howling at the heavens!
My god, Meter! My goddess, Melody! You do envigorate my being with your song, Enrapturing my mind with every teasing note and tone; The endless permutations of your being Stretched out so many lengths through the universe, End to end and top to bottom, limitless! You, my gracious Others, do sing delicate mysteries, Wrapping round my eardrums, ratatat and rumpapum!
This resonance, this personal saving grace Note this joyous, rapturous monument to love! We, the beings that have been harmonized together!
We, the great orchestra!