Indoors and Out
haiku to midday mountains and a sonnet to a symphony
I am posting this first poem just as I finished it a few minutes ago. It could probably use a rework in some areas, but here it is.
I’ve been listening to Mahler symphonies recently whilst trying to get free of assorted migraines, including today’s. The compositions’ long stretch and scale are a relief despite the fact I tend to have a slight phonophobia with some headaches.
For anyone interested, here is the recording I am listening to: Mahler 7 with Bernstein and the Wiener Philharmoniker.
Mahler’s 7th Symphony
The sound of muted trumpets over strings’
Long chord, as though a silence were to be
Thus imitated, while there softly sings
A melody half-recognized, and we
Participate in treading through this space
Of life, so lofty and enormous. Still
The strings continue with a quiet grace
But grow more firm, insistent, till a trill
Now brings them forward once again, is heard
In happy dance with death march–is it though?
For I am stumbling, line by line and word
By word, my migraine headache easing slow
Along the music’s contours, which create
A place my soul inhabits. Mahler’s great.
Other than Mahler, this week seems in some ways like a repeat of last week, with a haiku about the daytime and a slightly longer poem about the night.
Temperatures here are holding steady, with daytime highs up to 110 F/43 C and rain still only a hope, showing up in small percentages in one forecast, but not in another.
The “extreme” UV indices contribute to the effects I describe in this next haiku.
The white-hot skies
and the pale mountains
Finally, here are the night clouds—not many, just a few floating across the moon.
The clouds are floating on moonlight
Adrift like the spume of the sea,
But when they pass over its surface
The night is darker to me.
Yet up aloft they have captured
More light in their frothing of white;
Across the tops of their eyries
There’s only the beautiful light.