My Destringed Lyre

  

If I were Orpheus

I would have destringed my lyre

silencing it forever.

When I sang of love

my lyre danced

rhythms of the world

apart from the old familiar

feelings, trees, vegetation

even birds and animals closed

the world on their ears

listening to the strings of my heart.

 

But when my love died

and  the underworld

call it heaven or hell

denied me entry

my voice in tremulous cadence

created starless nights

dewless leaves in cracked notes,

people ran away from me

I was stoned.

 

Should you only enjoy

the lustre of life

and not the grim pallor

of dark silence?

What is my lyre for

only tickling sensations

erotic heat.

Is life only the body 

only for gains and orgies

why then dark clouds

and the rising smoke

from the burning bodies

distract us into stasis?

 

Day and night ebb and tide

love and separation complete life.

If my lyre cannot raise

the dome of glory

the sepulcher of death

I will have none of it.

 

But my destringed lyre

will move you to completeness

of your being.