Alan Botsford – Ⅴ

Orchestra of Small Discoveries 

 

 

 

A word has such a long way to go.

It all starts, some say, by looking

a baby right in the eyes. Or

when your first idea turns image. Or

when emotion being lived connects

the roots and branches of your life… But

whenever it begins, it will travel

the length of the heart of the dream–

a passage from deep in shadows where

it is born…to where

it has come

further than one can imagine.

You will have to wait

until the very last

marker on the trail of your life

is gone right passed and

you’re out among the sparrows

which are hopping at your feet, not hoping

to be fed but busy carrying you forward

and upward, effortlessly, without your noticing it,

for you to hear this sound,

indescribable, transportive,

as if reaching the top

of a mountain with

its paradise garden and a lake, trees and maybe a small café…

When you hear the music you will smile

in disbelief that such a long,

arduous journey could end

in such an ecstatic experience.

 

Some day, perhaps, you will hear

the sound of this word

that’s trying to be spoken.

But a word has such a long way to go

before it is heard.

In the meantime, due to cultural

tendencies there may be friction

from all the cobbling together

of ragged particularities, even if it’s

entirely new, or even authentic.

All the jumbling up you feel will be appropriate, nevertheless,

given the resulting music, which is not indefinitely postponed but

like the memory of a sound

you used to hear (as if deep in a dream), is

something, you realize, you should keep

on trying to remember,

maybe even forever, once

it is heard.