Tracks of Never-Ending Light

There is a moment few will know.

Long after the last strain,
After the final breath,
After the final chord,
After the bows,
After the last applause,
After the curtain,
After the hugs and well-wishes,
After the smiles,
After the piano is covered,
After the farewells,
After the flick of the darkening lights,
There is a moment few will know.

It is a moment shared with no one,
When the conductor sits in silence,
Looking far away,
And thoughts fall like a quiet snow,
Stinging cheeks and hands.

If only I… If only they…

Imagine if…

I missed…  They missed…

I wish…

I loved…

And the smiles come.  The regrets.  The wonders.

Thoughts flow forth in heavy flakes.
Oh, these gentle souls under my care —
Were they nourished?
Did they grow like flowers in the sun?
Did they climb this mountain and see what I see, high above?
Did they give everything they had?
Did they hear?
Did they sacrifice?

Did they sing?

For I know I love them, these who have trusted me.
Yet what a dear tragedy I missed a special look from one
Or a smile from another…
I would that I could turn time back to make sure I really saw them,
To make sure I treasured them in the way they deserve —
All of them.
So they would know I loved them, these who have trusted me.
So they would know I saw that they tried.
So they would know I saw that they tried…

Oh, I wish…

There is a moment few will know,
When the conductor sits in silence.
When the music is done,
And thoughts whip about like snowflakes on a windy night,
As if they move on tracks of never-ending light.

 

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