before there was song

if ever there was a time before song
then still I am sure was the land
filled with singers ringing their hearts
for want of just the right words
to express the truths they held dear
or the fears born of darkly silence

how maddening the unspoken tones
tearfully tearing at their sighing souls,
the mourning melancholy when folly
begets loss and limits salvation’s hope,
but much more than this: how dreadful
to love yet lack the lyrics to sing!

i am no artist, yet can in clinging feel
the beating of this heart, and thus reveal
through Brighid’s profoundly mystical
inspiration, paving the way for tales
of sensual abandon and honest desires,
and verses that simply vowing explore

more adoringly the fullest warmth
and gentlest beauty of my beloved
that naturally rises beyond any song
ever sung by the fair finest of men

Salt Lake City 21 June 2022

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a song

There is a song that stays
playing through my thoughts
so compellingly calling me
that I cannot help but soulful
sing it aloud again and again
wherever I may be
and whoever might hear,
following each and every note
as it teases my memories
from their reluctant slumber,
drawing needfully my thoughts
into a most insistent longing.

And I welcome it.

The voice of my soul sings to it,
as I youthfully caper and dance
and delight in the zealous joy
that such a melody instills.
The sounds are like colors,
painting fields and flowers
and the dreaming deepest woods,
and even a distant strand
where feet dive deep into the sand,
and laughter splashes over the waves.
You are the song I love to sing,
the song that urges me to hope and desire,
and to moonlight that glows
across your so beautiful face.

composing love

the rhythm
of this heart
measured in sighs

compound time
each beat
in three parts

one is for me
the next for you
the finest for us—

being the pulse
of this meter
flowing in time:

adagio i waited
like petals clasping
a blossom of hope

moderato i awoke
scenting the strands
of silken dawn

allegro i stride
over cultivated notes
patterned pristine

my voice singing
always, my love
for you

Salt Lake City 07 Feb 2013

a child’s laughter

precise patterns declare this life
founding institutional morbidity
determining individual consistency
dryly imparting spiritual conformity

beyond these walls these borders
beyond the refulgent adornments
of this overly stimulated sloth
there must be something more

a path that wanders aimlessly
into a garden of lushest dreams
a stream that laughing flows over
stones of sweetly shimmering hues

this world announces a mosaic
of song chanted by children who
recognize not the impossibilities
of time nor the rules of sound

gleefully constructing

their own

delicious

eager

yes

Salt Lake City 12 Nov 2012

breakfasting with my daughter at Oasis Cafe in Salt Lake City

Ajde Jano (Come, Jana)

Sometimes, when your heart is so full of love, as mine is now — and feeling so very blessed to be loved by one so beautiful and compassionate and kind — your body just wants to dance. Longs to dance. To move with the touch of the beloved, holding her in your arms. Feeling her heart beat with yours. With mine. … Come, my love, let us dance.

Here are the lyrics to this beautiful Serbian song:

Ajde Jano, kolo da igramo,
ajde Jano, ajde dus^o, kolo da igramo.
Ajde Jano, konja da prodamo,
ajde Jano, ajde dus^o, konja da prodamo.
Da prodamo, samo da igramo,
da prodamo, Jano dus^o, samo da igramo.
Ajde Jano, kuc’u da prodamo,
ajde Jano, ajde dus^o, kuc’u da prodamo.
Da prodamo, samo da igramo,
da prodamo, Jano dus^o, samo da igramo.

And the translation:

Come, Jana, let us dance the kolo.
Come, Jana, let us sell the horse.
We’ll sell them just so we can dance.
Come Jana, let us sell the house.
We’ll sell it just so we can dance.