Life With Horace

poetry & essays

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all eyes and
single voices
this great body
balanced on
a razor thin
tipping point
we sing
full throat
to ecstasy
the music stops
I fall into
the abyss of silence
tears flowing

the moment after the end of a great piece. for Cailin Marcel Manson, who took us there.

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Dark voice in silence

There is quiet now
where rich color
had been heard,
deep and sensuous
His turning notes
of fluted california
honky tonk remain
a potent legacy
Rest easy
we will hear
your echo.

day 6 of NaPoWriMo. RIP Merle Haggard, who left us today. Singer, brilliant songwriter, early voice of Bakersfield.

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sitting in

walking into warmth and welcome
with a close held friend,
we find a solid place,
crafted lovingly
of wood, and glass, and hope,
the love of neighbor,
dignified by quiet repetition,
faith made real,
seen in face and heart,
heard in voices raised in song,
those who come once more
to hear a gifted preacher’s words,
sharing his belief in purpose
and God’s love,
of the journey into faith.
all this I see, from number 31,
(an alto seat), gladly sitting in,
sending up my hymn with theirs,
in deep appreciation
for the gift of wisdom,
ours that day to
keep and savor

for Tom Atkins, the preacher Deborah Rahalski and I heard that day, our friend and fellow creative spirit, on the occasion of his birthday.

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joy renewed

we are ready, we think,
for tomorrow, making music
shared among ourselves,
for strangers, and those
who populate our lives.

we have but to erase
details, orts left of grander
chores, now simple ticks.
as we began, rich notes
brought tears of joy
burst out of souls and eyes.

but tied to knowledge,
certainty arrived as well,
so flat in effect that
to be on stage
seemed almost afterthought.

tonight will tick away,
and tomorrow we will gather,
drinking swiftly, deeply from
Cecilia’s well, knowing
blessed energy will flow
in us with the first downbeat.

poem copyright 2014 KH Rantilla. all rights reserved.