Tango

One heart yearns, tired
tentatively stepping
building, growing,
keening, wailing
grieving, hoping again to love.

It rises up, old
brokenhearted to dance
circling, soaring
aching, climbing,
mounting stairs, again, to heaven.


Comments

Karin said…
Trusting the ONE who leads us in this dance!
Simple Mann said…
Hooray! Good to "hear your voice" here again, Laurie.

Many blessings!
Paul
Kent Island Red said…
Did you write this? It's beautiful. The violin is a nice touch, too.
Laurie M. said…
Thanks, Kathy. I did write it. My husband has been encouraging me to write poetry and I've dipped my toes in. I don't consider myself a poet, or even like poetry, but I'm finding that there are times when the heart needs to speak and I need to learn to let it. I'm embarrassed to say this, but that music is what inspired the poem. I'm afraid I can't do justice to Perlman, but hopefully he would understand that anyone who can squeeze a poem out of this crusty heart has accomplished a big deal.

Paul,
Thanks for the welcome. We'll just take it one entry at a time and see what becomes of the thing.
Anonymous said…
Beautiful, Laurie.
Anonymous said…
To me, Tango has always seemed like the music of the dead, but the Perlman piece, while sad in a way also has life to it.

I like your poem. Even the old and broken-hearted may dance.

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