Monday, August 18, 2014

One True Love

When I was a freshman in high school (about fifteen) I went to the United Kingdom on a family trip.  We were staying in a hotel in London at the same time as a group that was performing. Thinking back with what I know now (it was August, near Edinburgh), it must have been a school group or a fringe fest group.  There was one person practicing violin at about 1 am.  Loudly.  In the hallway.  Here I was a stranger in a strange land and there was this violin music.  I wrote a poem about it.  Over the years, it has become lost but I still remember the opening two lines because I had read it to my parents and was told, "that's creepy."  It is the same three lines used here.  I decided to use the lines and try to recreate the feeling of the lonely young man, practicing the fiddle, at the wee hours of the morning, desperately seeking...

One True Love

A man and his instrument are one
One constantly craving
The company of the other
The haunting melodies
Rise down the darkened corridors
Calling to mind
Gypsy ghosts of yesteryear
The student studies with strings
Crafting compositions for classes
Making nightly worship
At the altar of Apollo
He sweats and bleeds notation
Knowing this is life blood
Music is his mistress
He will never truly love another
Beyond his first
One true love