What was there before the strings,

the resonating beauty of a violin

caught in the midnight chime

of my ears and soul,

what was there before that…

 

What was there before the beat of a drum,

the sniff of palpitation of my heart

that rose and shivered

in time as the snare cut across Time,

what was there before that…

 

What was there before the electricity,

the hum and the feedback

that snarled and kissed

like an angel dressed in red, a riff blessed,

what was there before that…

 

What was there before the sincerity of the saxophone,

the anchor of my downbeat and upmarket

ways, the mood within my mood

and the generosity of grandeur…

what was there before that…

 

What was there before the voice, simple,

outrageous, stunning, filled with sex,

filled with power,

tumbling with illusion,

what was there before that…

 

What was before all of that…

there was you, there was

always you in the dark and silence,

the void and the strangeness…

what was there before of all of it…

only you.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016