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To My Friend Who Once Played the Viola
by Maralee Gerke
copyright 01-14-2003


Age Rating: 18 to 127

 
A crescendo of sadness washes through the long silent years
Music pursued, transformed your life.
She insisted on music, and out of a one-sided love you complied
Her fulfillment became your emptiness.
Notes that once rose spinning and twirling, could no longer move you
Your inner instrument was twisted by the desire for acceptance.
The power of the music, finally muted by the triumph of your wounded soul


Does your body retain the memory of the playing posture?
Can you feel the smooth wood nestled beneath your chin?
Do you miss the feeling of your fingers on the strings,
Of the bow in your hand?
In dreams do you play, unencumbered by the past?
Your life has taken a diverse path, but the
Loss of your music was the cost of freedom.


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Comments on this Article/Poem:
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02-15-2003 Nancy Pawley    

Maralee, this poem is so sad, but beautiful.
Nancy


01-22-2003 Cristina Lipp    

Maralee, this is so touching. A sould-searching compromise of letting go of something you love so dearly to gain (what?) freedom....
I felt the sense of loss in this poem.


01-14-2003 William Robbins    

Your poem is a song of great dark feeling, very touching in its intense sadness.


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