For Daniel D’arienzo

Funeral pyre.

Singing for death,

Singing for life. 

Our songs presume

Not to build a

Pyramid, but

Only to vibrate.

Humming on a harp string

Into the pitch of night,

We will stab back.

This string and all

Our voices will

Move air.  Waves into

The void,

Spreading, the ripples

Never die.

Songs for all of us!

Music will hold us

Close till morning comes,

And if you never stop

Strumming, I’ll

Never stop Singing.

We’ll make it through.

Doubled over in anguish,

We will hum through

The night.  Our deep

Resonance will soar with

Shining wings of gold. 

With the dawn light

New on our

dried out faces,

We look up to the

Canvas and know that

Our voices and

Yours, however small

Are still there somewhere.

We have moved the

Aether, stabbing back..

We are hoarse now and need rest.

Music is,

Music is,

Music is the only

Thing that binds. 

We bleed in rhythm

Because we cannot

Bleed in light. 

The waves will

Clap and the trees

Will knock, the sparrow

Will sing and the

Rain will drop. The pines

Will whistle and

The bells,

The bells will toll.

Our daughters will sing

And we will mourn.

Time Passes. 

Twilight is where the

Music starts and the

Music stops. 

It’ll get us through.

It has to. 

We are both self

And other, to

Each other.

Huddle close and

Hum.  We’re all

Still here.

Conservation of energy.

Echoes never die,

Neither will you.