I Pluck Away

Atria fit to bursting with people from the Ether,

Vying to injure they jostle away at each other.

Unable to contain their growing girth,

The gates of the Monument come bursting forth.

Sometimes the weather is stormy,

Augmenting the impact of this restless army.

And as the weapon to vanquish them is unsheathed,

Tuned to the destruction of the marauders it is.

Like ushers guiding the crowd,

Ten young men instinctively lead the rioters out,

Swaying, tapping, muting and sliding,

Like ancient heroes, out they come riding.

As different as they are from one another,

Each understands and anticipates his neighbor better than a brother.

As they revel in the common life surging through them,

Alive comes the Weapon with their resonance.

As the magical sound steadily rings,

The people cease their restless wanderings.

Lost they are in the pervading light,

Blundering their way in the maze after passage of imposed night.

The Atrium expands to twice its size,

Ecstatic, in its vaults Love unbounded flies.

As the infiltrators sink back into the Other Region,

"Now I shall rule," says the enchantress Oblivion.

She purrs, transporting the soul to Utopia,

And the thirsty drink her voice, as if it were ambrosia.

Entombed in Her velvet wings

I finally sit back, calm, as the music rings…

(Ah, music- the salve for all afflictions

And words and Microsoft Word, the most patient listeners ever…)