TO A SACRED CHOIR
IN HONOR OF THEIR BECOMING THE BEAUTY
THAT COURSED THROUGH RACHMANINOFF
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That white beauty of voices
weaving their harmonies
of sound like supple slips
of summer straw weave a crown.
Open throats, like young spring birds:
eyes open, hearts open...
The people are open!
And music streams through
like snow-water pure
torrents.


Poem © Blake Steele 1996
Image © Blake Steele 2010