Small Song for a Lark

by John Scrivens

I know this piece. I can recite each beat;
Time signatures I grasp but, even so,
These accidentals took so long to know,
And I have learned each triplet, each repeat.
I’ve practised long, would not admit defeat;
It does not matter that I will not shine;
The boring hours are gone, this piece is mine;
My fingers numb, my knowledge is complete.

This hall is silent now, and every eye
Is on the baton raise.  Pause.  Begin,
And deftly, quietly, launch this small bird’s flight;
The melody surrounds me, fills my sky;
The lark ascends, the gentle sun pours in;
Discard the page: the day is filled with light.