The song I live for in my head -
the one, in fact, I’ve yet to write -
assembles phrases yet unsaid
that, spoken out, might leave me dead
of fright.
The tune that wanders in my brain
is restless, and it won’t sit still.
At times it drives me quite insane.
Oh, how it loves to shift and strain
against my will!
The air that fills my cranium
is much as ancient as the world.
Above this voiceless stadium
presides a winged Palladium,
her mysteries unfurled.
The hymn that consecrates my skull
is insubstantial as the wind.
Its legibility is null,
although it pleads with me to mull
on all the sins I think I’ve sinned.
The song I nurture in my head
was there before I spoke a word.
It may outlive me when I’m dead…
or better, serve me in my stead.
I can’t say if and when it shall be heard.