Lyrical Life
By Connie Post, Poet Laureate of Livermore
Dedicated to the Livermore Valley Opera - June 26, 2005
It is music
In all its grace and gratitude
That finds you in the middle of the night
Finds you when you thought
It had forgotten you
Finds you on a walk
In the middle of a quiet street
The trees singing aria with sky
It is harmony that seeks to complete itself
When chords find you
Like nostalgia
Like fate
It is when the octave of your days
Seems to span over reach reminiscent moment
And tells you it is music
That composed your most pensive thoughts
Created all of the notes
On the page of your existence
It was when you felt most alone
That a minor chord crept up on the couch
By your side
And seemed to absorb every lonely moment
You've ever had
It was when you sat with someone on an old porch
And remembered days of acapella
And the crescendo of spring
We write our symphonies
As we walk across a stage custom made for our voices
Bring lyrics that fall like snow around our ears
And capture each whole note
Like an opus
Like a song we have been trying to sing
All of our lives.