Gaudete

Sing your song

Love your voice

of dark honey and amber

of moss and pond froth

let the blonde iris of song

bloom from the calyx of your lips

Don’t let the glaring eye of judgement

tear you to pieces

scald your mind with its stare

temper your hymns to creation

if you let it, the steel blade of reason

will shear your tendrils of mirth

It will say:

it would be better if you stay silent

you know, you are no meadowlark

you sing off-key, falter and rattle

it will shame your tongue to withdraw

an insipid turtle crumbling in its shell

your body hunched in a question mark of apology

Don’t listen!

something in you knows:

music is a silken creek flowing over the rock of the body

a tender, beaked thing nestled in your throat

your bones are the colors of rainbows

your skin is a canvas for the sibylline moon's reflection

today your melody is a jubilant apple

you fly just beneath the wings of beauty

Across the ocean, down the street

men tear each other to pieces

their bodies soaked with spite

their feet burn, ache across deserts

their thirstless mouths closed off

to the comfort of rain

their ears to the innumerable melodies of God

So let your song be a flaming sword

a paladin, a scaled dragon, a lion gallant and crowned

today, let it be the fierce breath of joy

You have left a certain number of days

when you can paint the hues of the earth

when the sky takes the shape of a poem

when birds share with you their twittering secrets

when wine lingers on the tongue

Soon you will wither and forget

retreat into a shriveled infancy

your ear will hear only memories

soon you will once again be mud and clay

But not yet

Today let yourself vibrate

like the love-sick thrush, hum as the winged creature

your voice is your essence, of woman, of man

instrument of rapture

You know it is a humble thing

someone will always sing a better song

with fuller voice

pen the more decisive word

begin with a more refined brush

You will never reach the top rung

on perfection’s steep ladder

will not even come close

This is of no concern to you

Your business is only

that you are alive in this moment

on this earth

Remember:

you reside among the ecstasy of green things

what can be more sublime than trees

on your brick porch, sunlight glistens off the lizard’s blue tail

butterflies are not cliches of themselves

you breathe in April mornings when flowers have no irony

they desire only to be worshipped by eyes or fingers

let them be your fragrant muses

With your song

you pass on your shivering brightness of being

to a child who waits

buried somewhere in your body

or who has already emerged

who wanders the streets

without you

This love song – it started before you, ages ago

passes through you, flows on

churns through blood like water

You are your mother’s refrain

she hummed your little melody

before you had a name

she painted your world

as your father played feathers of keys, strummed strings

with his thick thumbs and broad palms

It is your time now.

dissolve your fear

sing your song

Gaudete!