Not Yet

A Poem

Not Yet

Sing out my heart, exhale your weight,
Cry over the valleys your fate,
Let down your tears, tear out your angst,
Relinquish your terrors, your pains.
		Not yet, not yet...

Mark down the notes that beat inside,
That thump-thump your drumming mind,
Jot with haste in black and white,
Each sorrow that harrows your sight.
		Not yet, not yet…

Measure laments between your rests,
And worry no more your fell breast,
Purge your pinned veins of venom’d pressure,
Slow bleed your boiling blether.
		Not yet, not yet...

Dumb heart, move harsh through modal shift,
Re-tune your flat scales with sharp kiss,
Shed your old skin and slither new
Around the blank staff’s ope grooves.
		Not yet, not yet…

Spring live once more, though murmured praise
Be merely your instrument phrase,
Sing with grace and surely settle
Your common tongue in well-wrought mettle.
		Not yet, not yet...

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