When I listen
To Canon in D minor
I am transformed in history
To a woman who made me realize
That marriage, although not a mainstay
In 21st century society,
Will always be the canon
Of love. The wanderer’s flame
Searches for a thread to flare up
And to let a piece of music
Carry her down a nave and isle
So tenderly like Aladdin’s mat
Had transformed into a pair of heels.
And she was dazzling
And everything stood irrelevant
Except a little ring on a finger
And a vow for eternity
And Pachelbel carried her
Into my arm, and let her
Trespass on my lips. And now
She dances to my music
And I to hers, and this canon of ours
Solvates every God-given fabric
– Muscle, tendon and ligament –
Transcending melting points
Liquefying bliss.
