brettworks

The music began as music
but then became something different.

He had hoped to create
a grand construction
in considered sounds,
but the moment steered itself
towards other destinations.

The screen in front of him held clues–
a mountain range screensaver,
colors of a kaleidoscope sunset,
an imaginary landscape.

Then the mountains began to speak:
“Forget yourself,
give us a soundtrack instead,
the sound we’d make
if we could sing
instead of speaking in colors.”

The composer held a chord,
forgetting what it was supposed to be.

“Imagine being among our depths,
an echoing off our stone,
a breeze through our pine,
a figure against our horizon.”

He moved to another chord,
surprised that forgetting
what the notes should be
could let them loose to do their work.

“We love stillness, not action,
resonance not attack,
getting you lost in our silence.”

As he played and forgot
what the chords should do
the music used the moment
to be what it wanted to be–
a song to remind the composer
that sounds are therapy.