The Ecphorizer

My Heaven
W. J. Walsh

Issue #50 (October 1985)

There comes a time when solitude is sought
If only for its therapeutic joy.
W J Walsh  to be alone is almost needed,
If we are to live with one another in peace.
For me to be alone is a necessity,
But, to be alone with music is like a heaven.
Not Augustine's City of God, of course,
But a heaven of my own that I can bathe in.
To dive, as it were, into a pool of sound.
To swim amid the notes of the long-lost greats.
Letting the entire scope of sound consume me,
Cutting me off from all that is not true.

What better Valhalla could one ask for?
Alive amid the brilliant Mahler First,
In a sublime world of ecstatic sound.
The kaleidoscope of chords, a Berlioz fiesta.
Surrounding myself with a fortress of cadenzas,
Roulades, rondeaus, and cavatinas,
Fantastic tocattas, and infinite fugues.
Codas so huge the mind explodes in wonderment.

Lydian measures, and brusque adagios of joy,
Encapsuled in cadence and harmonic touch:
Ein Heldenleben, ending in orchestral purity.
A chorus of angelic voices in a prelude to life.

Poet WILLIAM J. WALSH claims to speed-read more than eight books a week. In his spare time he plays chess.

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