Choose a Song | Teen Ink

Choose a Song

June 17, 2011
By Jesse914 BRONZE, Portsmouth, Rhode Island
Jesse914 BRONZE, Portsmouth, Rhode Island
4 articles 0 photos 2 comments

The way I hear this music,
I’m cross-legged in the receding tide
the sun is pressing its cheek to the sharp horizon
and the sky is clear and gleams, glows…
warm water,
smooth, salty, hypnotic
the wet sand sucks me in
holds me firmly to the earth;
gravity
forces of attraction
steady

(crescendo)
A wave swells, putting an upside down dimple in the sunset
as it races closer,
larger and looming
distance disappears in a roar (voices echo on the surface)
I see it coming

Closer, deep breath- hold your breath!


(fortissimo)
white water roils

foam and grit and liquid so solid
it is stone
sound without sound, underwater (hold your breath)

and the rest of them-

there are others in the water
there are people, churning, churned,

singing, sung.
Their voices swell,
their hair is around me-
pulled from my sand and lifted into their midst

Chaos of harmony


Tumult of rhythm



One pulse




The ocean, that tempo (crazy heart, racing)
(the people wear bright colors, red and gold and electric
BLUE.)
Pulling with their voices,
the fluid heartstrings of the tone
the sound (listen)
wrapping themselves around me as the waves rolls on
I see my feet above me as the wave rolls on (above…which way is up?)
I feel sunset air on my hand
as it stretches briefly above the surface
Withdraw, returning…I am a part of the wave

My tempo is the ocean

these people have my face

and my voice makes their heartstrings


thrum; liquid solid vibration

(decrescendo)

foam leaps and spits
then hisses and quiets…
quelled, quelled

my legs bump against the sand, gently
my head breaks the surface and I swallow the last vestiges of the sun in the air
as it dips below that horizon
dark now

the wave recedes like that first tide,
and the salt floats me back to gravity
the people wave goodnight and their robes vanish into the darkness
colors, colorless, all

My feet come to fold under me,
and I sit
cross-legged in the shallows
soaked to the core
dripping the melody
drenched with the song

(did it seem like music to you?)

Quiet…
Whale song, just a few notes

humming the last threads of a familiar melody
I can barely see her as she breaches, far off


The people must be singing with her, out there

Maybe she can still see the sunset, where she is

Maybe the wave rolls her through the tempo

Maybe she is listening to the song

Quiet…

Can I swim faster than the receding tide?
Can I catch the song, one more time…?

Thank God for the rewind button.

The author's comments:
I wrote this listening to a piece of music called August's Rhapsody by composer Mark Mancina, from the movie August Rush, and this poem documents my experience of hearing the music.

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