Has everything worth feeling already been felt?
Has everything worth saying already been said?
Has everything worth writing already been written?
Why even assume, then, that my poem will be read?

How, with this pageant of sublime beauty
Can I march in my ugly, soiled trench coat?
How, into this current of ceaseless creativity
Can I venture with my little paper boat?

In the celestial orchestra that is our universe
There’s a score for every creature’s effusions
From the hummingbird to the blue sperm whale
We all signal our ambiguities, our allusions

If we care to listen at once to all the little voices
We hear the balance of every harmonic and tone
Their timber and their sonority fills our hearts
For no living thing that sings, ever sings alone 

To this superlunary symphonic ensemble
I now add my unadorned, enthusiastic ventilation
I want only to elevate, enrich and exalt its harmony
So I hope you will accept this humble creation

4 thoughts on “Symphony*

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