Die Moldau

two streamlets gurgling through your woodwind notes

oh Smetana - it was our lives you wrote

and life is dreaming - who can stop the flow

or channel the direction it will go?

a river - traveling faster by the minute

gathering our existences within it

some will sound the horn - and choose their fate

while others paddle and procrastinate

the river passes rites - when humans come

like streamlets - finding unity as one -

in moments celebrated in a dance -

so joined two lives grow stronger and advance

through evening's argent path - where far-off stars

remind the wise how transient they are

for trials will rise from which they cannot flee

while facing rapids of adversity

at last the river meets its resting place -

swept into the ocean's interface

where sunlight draws its moisture - forming rain -

enabling tiny streams to flow again

we too must be recycled in our role

as players in this earth's vast living whole

becoming part of all we've ever known

like dandelions before the seeds have blown

© Hazel Hall

31 July 2012

Farewell Gamelan

a gamelan lies on the fifth floor - its players are grieving -
it should be resounding with rhythms and echoing chimes
for gamel means hammer - so why don't those beaters start heaving

I can't think of anything musically sadder than leaving
a gamelan lying neglected and gathering grime
it needs to be polished and played - we musicians are grieving

we used to rejoice in the sound of the instruments weaving
their intricate patterns while kendang and gongs kept the time
though gamel means hammer - it's programs and staff that they're cleaving

when at last we secured that ensemble - imagine how pleasing
it was after struggling for funding for years - now we find
we are back where we started - no wonder performers are grieving

imagine the loss of world music - sad news we're receiving -
those melodies kept us in tune - culture's food and its wine
though gamel means strike it's our hearts that are doing the heaving

soon they'll come with the trolleys - ensemble and stands will be leaving -
put the lot in some store room forgotten - all deemed past its prime -
to lie there unplayed - though we're shattered and cannot cease grieving
if gamel means strike - we will do it - for hearing's believing


© Hazel Hall
31 May 2012