Rhapsody of Courage

Rhapsody for Courage

to: Glenys

 .

And as I sat reading Billy Collins

all through this beautiful autumn morning,

I listened first to the lawnmower next door

struggling through an overgrown lawn.

And as I did so the clouds, which have

only just come on the scene, scudded by.

I was, though, in the middle of thinking

about this when disturbed by the cat,

who, as she washed,  did so

with a particularly raspy sound and shifted

a little with the sun; a sound I may not have

heard had the mover not ceased its strange music.

.

The cloud movement increased and I thought

about the music of the morning. How the music

of clouds scudding was so pure, so high above me

and yet so beautiful as to make something within

me sing. And now the cat who may or may not

be aware of this has slipped further into sleep;

the sky now a total blue and silence give me

its beauty, its own very special sound. And the

cat stretches one lone paw toward that shifting

span of sunlight.

.

The cat is still sleeping, the sun has shifted into

a corner of the room and begins an afternoon ascent

up the wall when the phone goes; a sibling with news.

.

And what would be the music in that you may ask (as

we see you have come back to the poem:)  though yes

I did leave the poem for a long conversation. I left off

reading Billy and carefully, sadly wrote the final stanzas.

.

Our youngest sister begins her radiation treatment today,

another is having a hip operation. So, I come back for both,

but especially for the sister who is in and out of chemo or

radiation treatments saying, every time;  “No long faces here.”

 

That’s so god-damn difficult because the music of the morning

is now so different and yet she makes it so necessary to write on

into the late noon with No Long Faces Here and she can, and she

does make this sound both musical and courageous. This is the music

I now hear. A rhapsody of courage.

 .

Benita H. Kape © 4.5.2017

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