She cannot sing it
but only play it
note by note
key by key
in empty theatres
where you can listen
to Him who is
the cause of its hunger
for that sorrow
which makes the artist
whole.
She will play to me
skipping a beat
and finding a beat
the melodies that
remind you of it
sulking in the smoky air
dripping down the blue curtains
to the dark past
where His heart is torn
by starvation,
for it,
for you and I and her.
She will make the music
a spell of pure notes
magic which you can hear
filling pages
from emptiness
causing my heart,
torn by His life,
to see.
(c) June Perkins
from p. 14 Shadow Puppets
Gumboootspearlz 