Wagner, obsessed with his opera, made
himself ill. I, wrapt in his overture,
feel myself begin to heal, start to pray
for your healing – sense humanity’s cure
from Philharmoniker’s opening breath.
So this is how reverence rises, turns
to hope; how passion’s faith in life and death
inspires minstrel-knights, poets like us; burns
each cell of being, assuring wisdom
or at least acceptance beyond our power.
Mendelssohn, first conducting it, had come
to learn how its tension builds a tower
beyond stars. I’ve come to learn from above
I can love the you you have yet to love.
Roger Armbrust
May 6, 2016
