Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Silence of the Note - Ode to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonat


White ivory
Waiting to be played
Each note a syllable of sound
It’s distinct uniqueness rising, swelling
In haunting melodic grief

Crotchets
Quavers
Semi-quavers
Notes rises, falling
Swelling to fall in gentleness upon my ear
Receding in courteous precision to the next
Ocean like on a still moonlight night

It’s magnificence still haunts me
Fills me with sweet sadness
Of beauty given unheard by its creator
Yet it is the space between each falling note
The gentle silence
Of moon light’s pale glow
The stillness of that light
The silence which bathes substance in shadow

It is the beauty of the space between each note
Its haunting suspended silence
Which captivates me, enthralls me to its etherealness
I wait, still all these years past
With the same tear
For the beauteous silence of moonlight.

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