Valery Kourinsky

03.06.1999

MUSIC SEEKING EAR

 

What a redwood of relations we may waste!
Within poor days of aimless hurry,
on ways paved with our pain, nostalgia and insomnia.
The best Relations cry at all street corners,
praying to save them, begging not to throw away
to trash, to common litter bin.
The best Relations move through our mind
on bypathways, where are regretted heartily by everyone
that has them lost in fog of dabster's thinking.
Unskillfulness is guilty of that blunder, gentlemen.
Inaptitude is here to blame, oh ladies...
I ultimately am just ordinary man,
I am mere who is scared
when better friend becomes a common one,
so as to turn him into a mate and after transmute in a pedestrian
which by his usualness adds to your life
a shadowing of despair.

Not to live a single while without caressing!
Not to step on a road that is not that toward tenderness!
"No rough minding" --
inscription for general use.

Oh, Sequoia sempervirens, growing up to the our human heaven
that is not measured else
by the astronomer of mind,
as well as not acknowledged
by many of us,
which are living only under the illusive reality of
as if existing physically "firmament", "cosmic space" and other too foggy
"concrete matter".

But there is no height above Earth,
no clear-cut hugeness
that we are able to see
not being the participants of creative process,
that is a wee bit of God.
And so here, where our earthly connections
are nothings without heavenly truth.
Heavenly -- in old fashioned meaning
that was not so mean for divine elevation
on the level of shoulder height of our talks,
of our really soul-saving dialogues
during this briefness of existence.

Oh, redwood from old handbook of geography
that did its manual work in my childhood,
cutting a fistula from the soft wood of goodness!
To play, to play more,
pressing lips to the eternal embouchure
of hope for understanding,
for timely aid by listening to your deep music
that seeks ear for it,
not a simple physical hearing.