A Melody on the Strings of Life
Dicey strings loom ahead on that enormous stage,
I tremble, terrified of onlooking eyes.
Piscine pissed upon, I think to myself,
cookie-cutter, ugly-colored, failed fallopian.
I could quit, sweaty palms and heavy arms, Eminem-esque, like a
lemon, melanin silenced. Cowardice never seemed so
succulent. Failure never seemed so
Yes, I could run —
but I can’t.
Surreptitious sin got us into
this mess in the first place.
No. Amidst my dread and uncertainty
I’m compelled to return to the symphony
we were made for — magnificent
beings, images of greatness, sons and daughters.
I walk onto those indefinite strings,
embracing my fragility.
My melody rises like chai, taut and tempered,
beautiful and mysterious.
Musical meaning resounds and
is in awe of His faintly veiled glory