The Music of Soibada - a poem
The Music Of Soibada - A POEM Lucinda Rose Pilgrims, dotted around a city Or rather a community, a town Embedded within the sacred sounds of whisper and touch A guitar, a voice, or voices A myriad of harmony and tone and full-rounded vibrancy Whole in the ear and the tongue Reverberating through stony roads and blackened palms. The crowds dissipate, then swell nine times their size, Bodies squeezed together in anticipation For what is to come, A song, songs, verses and hymns, Recited in reverence for the stories, the visions, the faith and love Has become of this tiny space A large area of jungle Too varied to ever know Or even understand But does it matter That we who bear The fruits and colour of these people, this place, Come to respect it as our own; Simply to experience the sound lost in a minute, In a second, in a breath Of consciousness, We who, day after day experience life as it comes, May for a moment, any moment, Become the harmony, the song that is US, That is between us, that is around us. And maybe then we will see that, Only behind the next mountain Lies another sound, far away Startlingly near The answer to a question we have kept hidden And hidden away we have Time to listen, time to learn Time to feel that grace within the words, the breath of harmony And of sound That is us; Our Creation.
