My soul may sing in the darkness,
Cleaving the black of the night;
Opening shadow with starkness,
Filling all with perfect light:
Binding the music of night wings,
Caught fondling the stars with love,
Raptured by music the wind sings,
And counterpoint from above.
But I love the stars too deeply,
To capture their bonfires bright,
In musical aspic, cheaply,
Or expensive words I write.
Mick McKellar
September 2014
Poetry is to music as painting is to sculpture.
Mick
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