among us move the quiet
the still
the not so brave
with one wish they want granted
to join that sweet refrain
they sit there still and listen
soaring music through their souls
their bodies resonating
with voices strong and bold
the basses are the breeze
on which sopranos float
the tenors bringing colour
the altos add the hues
of a song
painted
exquisitely
in the air
awed and unbelieving
they stand
they sit
and listen
to voices that sound like one
and yet by eye are many
among us are the quiet
who once were not so brave
their wish
a start
was granted
a part in that majestic choir
and yet the rich refrain
it started as a faltering
the note that came too early
and one that came too late
with pitches low and high
and laughter all around
then one day it comes easily
a rousing ensemble of us all
we stand
we sing
laudate
to delight the every heart
for singings joy is not our own
it’s what we give to others
to draw them from their quiet repose
and join in with the chorus
and for some
the hope
the wish
of song
of repertoire
of solo
or simply
just to sing
This piece comes out of a journey of learning to sing. Of listening to music, choirs and wondering if I could do that too. I can and apparently you can too if you want to, if you have that wish. The poem was triggered by having “Happy Birthday” sung to me at 54 by the choir. I'm the oldest male in a choir of about 50 and yet a whelp compared to the mostly 20somethings who’s singing inspires and delights. Beware, when you imagine that age implies skill, experience or wisdom … it doesn’t.
(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2018 (written Apr 2018)
