Amid the noise, distractions of these days,
I oft begin to sense the churn, my head
aching, tightening, gripping me in waves
of undulating urgency and dread.
The pundits and prognosticators plead,
Conspiracies abound with buzz and malice,
And failing to rebuke the blaring bleats,
I turn in early; sleep should bring some solace.
But no, another restless night, but promise
to embrace this morn, to leave the noise behind,
Like “star” of Frost, seek height, accept the chalice,
Steel myself from onslaughts of the mind.
Outside the pre-dawn air bids raise my eyes,
It’s been there all the time; at peace I sigh.

Photo Friday: Height


While rehearsing for an upcoming Masterworks concert “Forest and Vale“, I was moved to tears. Randall Thompson’s music does, indeed, do justice to the words of Robert Frost.

Choose Something Like a Star  
              by Robert Frost

O Star (the fairest one in sight),
We grant your loftiness the right
To some obscurity of cloud—
It will not do to say of night,
Since dark is what brings out your light.
Some mystery becomes the proud.
But to be wholly taciturn
In your reserve is not allowed.
Say something to us we can learn
By heart and when alone repeat.
Say something! And it says, ‘I burn.’
But say with what degree of heat.
Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade.
Use language we can comprehend.
Tell us what elements you blend.
It gives us strangely little aid,
But does tell something in the end.
And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite,
Not even stooping from its sphere,
It asks a little of us here.
It asks of us a certain height,
So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.


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