Ever been speechless after witnessing something incredible?
Like a man watching his son blink once, twice, three times for the first time,
A mother seeing herself in the eyes of an infant daughter,
Those breathless times, you know.
Beethoven hearing for the first time the "Moonlight Sonata"
While too lovers dance underneath the milky white of the midnight sun,
As she kisses the Earth with her warmth,
Lighting all kinds of swings and slides and grass with her mischievous glint,
And as the shadows dance across deaf piano keys, they swing,
Each nervous step, each change of tempo,
The nocturnal choirs are chatting along with the birdsong that will resume at dawn.
Miracles, truly miracles happen at this hour;
This is the WITCHING hour, this is THE GLOAMING,
and they dance and move with the shadows and the furious striking of ivory
and the inner chords of some grand piano,
yes, Beethoven is grinning, as the music fills his ears,
for the first time,
and something incredible is happening,
Something fantastic and irreplaceable.
And I will say to my papers and pens and ears and eyes,
and the host of notebooks brimming with birth and joy,
"a poem just happened."
(this ought to help you hear it too, dear readers: