"The Great Listening" Suite

I. I Remember Each Note Of Each Performance

I remember each note, of each performance.
Foolishly, I try to preserve only the sublime and heroic,
   and shed the banal and embarrassing.
But to no avail—
I know that each performance is stored,
   somewhere.

"Just where is it stored?" you ask.
It's not immediately evident, like refurbished pec's—
   in my ear, my restored wrists, my heart ?
   in my bank balance, my resume, my long-term goals?
   maybe in my eros, my unborn kids, my karmic debt?

"And where does this happen?" you wonder.
I've spread the tablecloth in the oddest of places—
   a gym
   a yacht
   at 'naked sushi'

"Why does it happen?" you ponder.
For every possible reason—
   to privately serenade a wife for an anniversary
   to publicly conquer the most challenging music
      in concert
   to secretly lubricate a room for fundraising

I remember each note, of each performance,
   Sometimes.

(dedicated to drummer Russ Gold, March 2008)

 

II. The Great Listening

III. The Dancer And The Watchmaker

 

"Figs Broken Open"

Do we not seek out the figs that have been broken open,
   revealing their sweetness?

When we add salt do we not expect the rice to cook
   a bit sweeter?

Are we not captivated by images of sanctuary amidst
   the chaos of human affairs?

Is it not the pain that surrounds the beauty that calls out
   the farthest and
   the deepest?

Answer all this and you will see why
   Spirit rarely allows
   for anything approaching perfect symmetry...

(December 2007)

 

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"Duty and the Two Candles"

Finally, after all the singing, all the dancing
   and drumming,
   and all the pleading with the Deities,
   it was time to return to the Everyday.

One by one, she took down the four altars,
   satisfied with their ability to absorb the mysterious
   along with the mundane.

She couldn't help but admire the last two candles
   with their majestic height and virgin white color
   encased in glass.

Though they looked identical
   she noticed how one candle was silent,
   while the other one shook freely.

Puzzled, she drew each to her ear
    to try to uncover their mystery.

"I Know What Is Expected Of Me"
    one candle said stoically,
    while the other candle whispered,
"i always leave room for the Divine."

(August 2007)

 

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"The Cool Breeze"

It is as if the cool breeze has returned,
All of you are his sails...

He really does like this,
   this gathering, I mean.
With the absence of any exertion
   we're all keeping his instrument in tune,
And whispering the long oo
   of his oud.

He actually welcomed the    Age of Recordings. He began to suspect that legend was    no longer sufficient to pass on The Great Spirit. He needed to make sure the    Disbelievers had no standing. That the cool breeze could be    felt by anyone.

written July 8th, 2006 at the memorial for
Master Musician Hamza El Din
(July 9, 1929 - May 22, 2006)

 

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"Overpacking"

You told yourself you were leaving for
    ten days,
Though you packed enough for
    ten years.
What were you thinking?

You look at bees and think
    they're Doing,
When for all we know they're really
    just Being.

You wish you could trade your
    fears and probable tears
For the uncertain certainty of
    Activity.

Trust, and be patient.
Surrender to waiting arms of
    Beauty and Grace.
Don't bother chasing the Beloved,
She's already made
    your favorite tea...

(August 2004)

 

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"Blues, Bartok, and the Bagatelle"

Who was it who brought us here to farm the
    mere existance of Spirit?
Loose beets, ears of corn, drummed wheat
    have long since known the the flavor of the
    Blues, Bartok, and the Bagatelle.

Indian musicians speak of bowls, guts, and tea highes--
    it's a miracle that our passion for music has not
    consumed every instrument in sight!

Let all your fantasies of dieting cease.
Come, and make the harvest yours!

(April 1997)

 

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"I Stayed Up Late To Talk With God"

I stayed up late to talk with God.
I wanted to know if he granted 'incompletes',
     you know, promises to finish a course after it's
     actually done.
He said, "No, that's not possible. I only grant worthy requests.
     Remember, charity begins at home."
"Like a true rarity," I replied.
"True charity" he said,
    "starts in the heart of the Believer."

(February 1995)

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"Let Truth Be Wattage"

And you
wrapped in the intelligence of the ages,
Fear not the trespasses of ignorance
or the blight of the soul's eternal loneliness.

When humor's will be carried out
the stars do listen, patiently,
For your eyes tell all that was meant to see.

Let your age be reflected in an ageless glance.
Let truth be wattage and behold your stock of vision
carefully, patiently, ceaselessly.

(December 1999)

 

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"Sweet As The Breath Of Eden" (lyrics from choral work)

Your song, your voice, sweet as the breath of Eden.
Darkening shadows lie, you're the bright horizon.
Put your hand in mine now and walk on toward the light.
Oh oh, your song, your voice, sweet as the breath of Eden.
You're the bright horizon, no one can deny you.

Now find a way--
    to sing the oldest song you know.
Now find your way--
    to lift your head when darkness grows.
Now find a way--
    to learn to love the fire that's in your heart.
It's time for you to fly!

(May 1994)

 

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"Flight From The Self" (lyrics from choral work)

Try to hide, go try and hide now,
    you can't escape yourself.
Try to hide, go try and hide yes,
    you can't escape your path.
Lessons unlearned, will haunt you still.
Lessons unlearned, will haunt you still.
Change your job, your look, your lover,
    change the games you play.
Your path is clear, now seek your truth.
Your path is clear, now seek your truth.

And look inside your heart
    you will see it lit, yes lit.
With the incandescent hues
    of blue and gold.

This light will illuminate your path.
Your soul's blueprint is waiting to be witnessed!

Try to hide, go try and hide now,
    you can't escape yourself.
Try to hide, go try and hide now,
    your can't escape your path.

(July 1993)

©2008, Second Sight Music