Your desperation
leads me to exasperation
How many times do I tell you?
How many times did I tell you?
How many times will I tell you?
Too many.
Once more.
If you do it when you’re asked
Begin when assigned the task
You will not be desperate
and I will not exasperate.
The strings and the fingers
are smiling tentatively at each other,
recalling long ago acquaintance
but feeling shy with each other.
Once, fingers danced with strings
for hours, without a glance to
the books of lines and staffs that
were their matchmaker.
Then they were separated
and the comfortable rhythm
they once shared
slowly dissolved
into awkward tentativeness
on the rare occasions
when they came across one another.
Relationships take commitment,
after all.
Now they’ve been reintroduced.
The matchmaker pushes them together
and fingers hesitantly
caress the strings,
leave them vibrating,
longing for more.
.
It’s been far too long, but I’m finally back playing the harp. So far I’m working on a great book, Rose in Winter, by harpist Sharon Thormahlen of Corvallis, Oregon. Her original pieces are so pretty and fall easily on the fingers. In this photo (circa 2002) is my Bresch Jubal harp (33 strings) behind and my double strung Brittany from Stoney End in front. (The Brittany is cherry, and has the most beautiful, shimmering grain and a tremendously loud voice for a wee harp!)
Shawn L. Bird 