Today I think of your emptiness--
Of how, alone in your case, you are nothing
but a varnished, shallow box whose lid won't come off.
Beyond your scroll's sculpture
and the tiger-stripes across your back
is the inside of you,
the rough blond wood around your empty heart
stamped with "imitation Stradivarius, 1946."
It is a curious, raw space, like an unfinished basement
glimpsed through the window of a single letter.
My wife's students had their recital at the house Sunday - the little 7 year olds playing for the first time, the 9 year old that used to balk at the lessons, sit in a chair and not pay attention, now playing with confidence, a straight bow, and such good intonation! And the two sophomores in high schoo on the Bach double. When students go off to college, excepting their parents, Barbar is the one constant in their lives - the one who gave them confidence and believed in them and that one lettered empty basement of a piece of wood. Let it sing - I believe it has given something to you life, and could give something to others.
ReplyDeleteThere is a story of a man who held a bird in his hands behind his back and tried to trick the wise elder by asking "is the bird alived or deat." "it is as you wish." was the correct answer. This day the violin was empty - but that is only because that is what you wish, or imagined this day.
Your wife sounds like an excellent teacher! As for the violin being empty in this poem, it was meant to be the first of series. If I remember right, the next poem was supposed to bring the song in. I was still playing regularly at the time of this poem's writing. Incidentally (or, perhaps, momentously), I took my violin out today, tuned it up, ran through some exercises, and enjoyed several songs. I've misplaced my tuner and my rosin somewhere, but I'd say the bird is alive :)
DeleteI'm so glad to know the bird is alive!
ReplyDelete