Together we can play the music

You play on the clarinet;

I play my old cello.

Your music is poignant;

My music is mellow.

I can’t play from your music;

You can’t play from mine.

I have longer fingers.

You have bigger hands.

You play some from memories

which I don’t understand.

I play from my own history,

You compose your own.

You have tortured feelings,

which I have rarely known.

Would you play my music?

Then it must be transposed;

but we can’t transpose our feelings,

Unless we are s first hown

By some blessed vision

From the dark unknown.

I love the music that you play.

I know well you love mine.

But can we play together

In some meaningful design?

Transposing keys and feelings

Is an arduous lifetime task;

Much easier to play pretend

and never,never ask.

I cannot share your lifetime hurts

and you cannot share mine.

Is it easier to share happiness

and supremely holy wine?

Oh,play your poignant music for me

with your meditative art.

I shall listen with my ears.

I shall listen with my heart.

Then I shall respond to you;

My instrument is here.

I am playing quite new music,

I feel you drawing near.

Together we are moved to play

A completely new design.

I seem to know your feelings

And I can hear that you feel mine.

Together we now make a work

For torment’s sweet relief;

Though this music is so tragic,

Its design has brought me peace.

Play on,play on,for now I know

I begin to understand,

without more words or gestures,

but those from your curved hands.