Poem - the bridge-builder

In memory of Hector Zazou (1948-2008)

THE BRIDGE-BUILDER

With sights no longer seen nor shown
The master-mason sets in space
His arching bridges, stone by stone;
They proffer passage place to place,
Span murky waters down below
Across a constant current's flow.

With sounds no longer heard nor played
The music-maker, note on note,
Synthetic orchestra arrayed,
Constructing themes that twine and float,
Spins asymmetric assonance
Into an aural renaissance.

A bridge is neither arch nor stones –
Without the one, the other falls;
And music neither notes nor tune,
But cloth that's woven to enthrall.
Each is an essence of the whole;
Without the rock can come no roll.

From dawn to dusk the wizard's wheel,
Turning in maelstrom cycles, works
Its sonic fabric, outward reels
Those threads it spins to span the Earth.
Coursing, its magics grow and mesh,
Majestic cultures coalesce.

So with our lives' geographies:
Thoughts, feelings, deeds, adventures flow
Over the deserts, into the seas;
Strong currents fashion, frame, and sew
Landscapes and soundscapes, interlaced
Into a global marketplace.

Within the pontiff's halls of glass
Great banyans spread: roots, trunks, and leaves.
Above, arc-angled spandrels pass;
Elusive music wafts and weaves,
And twinkling lights the dark dispel,
Chime faery chants and silvery bells.

Farewell, eclectic architect;
Adieu, compositor of sound.
I've seen your mirrored face reflect
In weavers' worlds where dreams abound,
Still hear the timbres once you voiced
Echo 'neath bridges you deployed.

(2015)

photo: Stephen Alsford

photo: Stephen Alsford

photo: Denis Alsford

Created: March 17, 2015. Last modified: April 26, 2015