MUSIC AS SCRIPTURE
By Diana Woodcock, Doha, Qatar
What we admire most about music
might be this—that at its best,
it escapes thought’s context,
all mental concepts;
that it provides evidence
the spirit can rise up (life’s flame),
freedom’s vitality enough
to give us wings.
We ride on the delicacy
of the strings,
enflamed by the spark
of percussion and woodwinds.
The heart weeps,
cinders rekindled as the oud
colludes with the double bass,
cries out against tyranny,
oppression, injustice, violence.
We are seduced,
led into the desert, reduced
to tears—the rababa,
drums, the Bedouin band—
music to bless the land,
rhythm and beat every woman
and man can understand:
may all beings be happy,
free from suffering, at peace.
Scripture of orchestra—
piano, percussion,
accordion, oud drowning out
the babel of the rude rabble
beyond the walls of the opera house:
industry, construction,
sky-scraping, earth-raping,
pulling (pearling) new islands out of the sea.
music uttering the tragedy
of invasion and the vanished.
Praise all music makers their
breath and strength to go on
airstreaming and strumming,
dreaming, humming and drumming.
