UNCLE AL’S CLOUDSCAPE

                        —for Allaudin Mathieu

                        Our referee, our Uncle Al.

                                    —Kirk & Marilyn

One day, Uncle Al

Walked up the hill to his studio.

Dreamily, composing, he looked up—

A cloud, and nothing else in a blue sky.

A cloud;            a quarter rest!

He stopped,               took a one-beat rest.

                                          Allowed

                                    in pause

                            & further

               instructions

from the sky.

                 Sighed,

                   took a step,

                    went  on

              with the

         music

    of his

           life.

UNCLE AL’S CLOUDSCAPE

TAKE TWO:

A cat’s cradle of music finger-weaves the sky.

The bright wind lifts us from the depths,

            carries us,

            cradles us in this taught stringing of days.

The clouds know the ocean,

it repeats the rocking motion.

Remember to breathe.

            Each step up,

            each thought takes us toward the summit.

The interior of the heart, of the eye,

is related to the weaving grasses.

We are kites tugging the wind,

our arms, wings of angels.

Tell us, tell us, tell us:

            climb up,

            climb the mountains of the sky.

We are flying to the mountains of the sky.

Take us up,

            push our legs down into earth.

Take us up,

            so that we may grow back down to the ground.

UNCLE AL’S CLOUDSCAPE

TAKE THREE:

Three notes occlude the distance the ear takes

in knowing the melody of night.

Uncle Al referees

 the sky

arranging clouds to fit the composition.

Ask about harmony and structure.

A composer composes the sky

with a beatific hand to the clouds,

orchestrating the rest stops and black notes

and the wings of cherubs wait their cue.

He wears a gioconda smile as clouds direct the score.

Take a one beat rest. Live in the now

for the now is all that there is.