Ghost Sonata. (Revised).

I must translate you into music,
Your smile, your laugh, your tears,
The soft curves of your body
Like undulating melodies
Written on the dawn wind
As you move from window to window
Peering into the silent house
To see if I am there.

I must transmute you into harmony,
The gold of Brahms or Schumann,
The music of the spheres
That the alchemists could never find
When seeking transformations,
Or concocting strange effusions
Of herbs, water and stones,
Magic leavening the art of science.
I must sift your face from the wind
That scuffs the autumn clouds,

Blows all things to nothing,
Transfigures all that was once real
Into the flickering lights of memory,
Visuals slowly faltering into imagination.-
I must shape your portrait into song,
Enliven the curved lines of the pastel image
With the muted heartbeats of delicate rhythms
That I can sense deep in my mind,

Sense in my mind when I look at your portrait
That I drew last time that you were here,
A stranger peering in at my window,
Yet leaving no trace when I opened the door.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 8th. - 9th. 2018.