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Just A Little Sobbing

March 27, 2021

38 of 40

Early morning research into internet streaming outcomes in my job as the Properties Chair of Trinity Church on the Green in New Haven, led me to a recording of a service.

Upon clicking upon the last Christmas service that Trinity had in 2019, about 100 singers and 500 pretending that they could sing made beauty. I had forgotten it. In the early morning, I sobbed. A little.

Beauty is not beauty that just pleases, it incites, provokes, fully pushes you in a place you did not know you had, let alone that had left you. It is not just sound, it is life.

Both sons singing at tender ages. The spoken words of my tender age. The exquisite sound and precision of effortless gut wrenching.

This Year Of Lent has not been kind. But it has revealed beauty. Not by its presence but in its absence. Hundreds singing, together, focused, as one. No more.

This will not stand. This end will end. Humans are not going to have beauty ripped away, without getting it back. This Easter will be silent, too. I will listen to the birds, as I am now.

All given, all not enough.

Better — than Music! For I — who heard it —

I was used — to the Birds — before —

This — was different — ‘Twas Translation —

Of all tunes I knew — and more —

‘Twasn’t contained — like other stanza —

No one could play it — the second time —

But the Composer — perfect Mozart —

Perish with him — that Keyless Rhyme!

So — Children — told how Brooks in Eden —

Bubbled a better — Melody —

Quaintly infer — Eve’s great surrender —

Urging the feet — that would — not — fly —

Children — matured — are wiser — mostly —

Eden — a legend — dimly told —

Eve — and the Anguish — Grandame’s story —

But — I was telling a tune — I heard —

Not such a strain — the Church — baptizes —

When the last Saint — goes up the Aisles —

Not such a stanza splits the silence —

When the Redemption strikes her Bells —

Let me not spill — its smallest cadence —

Humming — for promise — when alone —

Humming — until my faint Rehearsal —

Drop into tune — around the Throne —

Emily Dickinson

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