Uncritical Listening

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Only the simplest music
I get analytically,
unpacking without trying,
dividing without counting,
hearing without thought transcription.

When complexity sings
I take a step back
to view its note shapes from afar,
observing without judging,
counting without unpacking,
suspicious of their busy work.

It was a piece by Takemitsu–
I noticed one tone, the first,
singular and transparent,
well placed liked a raindrop,
then two more tone droplets,
as if perfectly landing on leaves.

A significant landscape was conjured
but when the liquid sounds increased,
their flow building gestural density,
I zoned out:
the falling water-leaf image
was gone.

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