Monday, December 16, 2013

Antonio Vivaldi in Perpetual Motion (Poetry by Bob Racine)



He made the God of humanity a gift of flutes and strings.

Once birthed out of the resonant hollow of a seashell,
his Mediterranean mermaid mother rocked him
in a Venetian gondola.  There he found his fluty tenor.

He learned to play off the backs of dainty-footed cupids
and in time made the squeak of a fiddle sound
as if it were covered with silky moist seaweed.

If anyone ever heard the turtle’s murmuring voice, it was he.

While others were enchanted by epic grandeur,
he was content with puddles and simple fair weather frolics,
capering on the tips of his toes.

Not quite solemn, never a screamer or shouter,
more the playful vivacity of fish in a pond
or sainted elves scrambling in the brush.

Or a sweet bird of an ancient paradise, swooping over the altar!

Listen for him at the far corner of the cathedral,
never in the listener’s face or pounding the ear,
calling to human hearts across the length of years.
         
Look again, and he is a troubadour walking on water,
or a minstrel among the four seasons,
un-beholden to any lord of the earth.

He had no sad or tragic tale to tell,
no purgatory of pain to visit upon us.
All he had to give was the purity of his form.
 
Once summoned by heaven,
he approached its gate with harp and voice,
dancing once more with his native cherubs.

For sacred listening pleasure, I recommend Vivaldi’s Gloria, one of the finest choral works ever composed.  For any occasion I suggest The Four Seasons, my favorite chamber piece, and any one of his six flute concerti.


To read other entries in my blog, please consult its website:  enspiritus.blogspot.com.  To learn about me consult on the website the blog entry for August 9, 2013.

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