From Palimpsest to Glory: The Music of Florence Price
In Ouachita's murmurs, where pine needles sigh,
I trace the mountains' ancient, weathered crown.
Silvered river forgotten secrets float by,
And fills my heart, a sonorous chamber now.
A flame ignites, dispelling shadows deep,
A beacon for lost souls on twilight's rim.
Forgotten songs within my spirit leap,
A lullaby for weary hearts, I hymn.
Florence, a palimpsest where sun-kissed tones reside,
A heart that brims with melody's embrace.
Her dreams take flight, on notes both fierce and wide,
A symphony of strength, etched upon her face.
Yet memories linger, like a clinging vine,
A constant reminder of a harsher time.
Traversing Bach's majestic score, I learn
The language of ascending keys, a path unfurled.
My mother's voice, an oboe's seraphic burn,
Bridges earth and sky, a beacon in the world.
With anthems rising, praise songs upon the air,
I find my voice, a note entwined in deeper prayer.
To halls of Boston, where music's spirit thrives,
My passion guides me, a relentless tide.
A woman hued, where marble coldly strives,
I etch my name, where prejudice once vied.
My voice ascends beneath the vaulted dome,
A symphony unveiled, a soul to call her own.
Silence descends, a weight upon my soul,
Unplayed notes quiver, a stifled, mournful sound.
But spirit unbroken, I reach for a new goal,
African rhythms course, a fertile ground.
Their rebel beat defies the stifling hush,
A variegated web, where sorrow and joy rush.
The blues, a weeping willow's mournful sigh,
Knitted with laughter, a timeless, promising spread.
Of cotton fields and trains that onward fly,
Of love's embrace, and hearts both lost and bred.
Folk melodies, a future yet unseen,
A raven, wise and strong, on hope's dark wings convene.
Then dawns a day, where victory takes flight,
My music soars, bathed in resplendent light.
The Wanamaker prize, a long-awaited right,
The first of all, her name etched in luminous glory.
Across the land, on wings of melody's band,
Her music dances, embraced by a grateful hand.
Shattered barriers, a pathway carved with care,
For dreamers yet to come, a legacy to share.
Though stories shift, the spirit’s truth lingers there,
A whispered promise, on a soulful, hopeful air.
In every soaring note, her essence takes its flight,
A testament to courage, bathed in hope's warm light.
So let the music flow, a symphony unbound,
A song for dreamers, where hope's sweet notes resound.
With resilience as our shield, and passion as our guide,
The world's a stage, where all our voices confide.
This is her story, in music's language told,
Florence Price, a voice, a heart, a spirit to behold.
May music linger, a radiant refrain,
The memory of her courage, an everlasting and glorious strain.
Copyright ©
Daniel Henry Rodgers
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