Of These Things I Sing
Ask me not to sing
of happiness, love, and pretty things
of freedom, justice, equality,
of wealth, even of friends’ loyalty.
Doubt me not. Like you
I have desired these, too,
but their lyrics elude me,
or, I haven’t had my share
of whatever joy they bring.
Thus, try as I want,
I cannot compel my heart
to sing of things it hasn’t known
or it might go off-key
for attempting too foreign a tune.
Let me sing instead
of cloudy skies and violent winds,
of poverty, loneliness, cruelty,
of hunger, cold, and misery.
Believe me, these I am familiar with,
their notes embedded deeply
in the very fabric of my soul.
I can compose an aria
based on them which, when sung,
can bind the arena
in a spell, and my heart need not be
impelled to do what it is most willing
to intone. Yes, of these things,
allow me to sing.
Copyright © Ryan Gayagay | Year Posted 2024
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