The Orchestral Suites by Bach are gems, full of light and so solid. They are irresistible every time.
Here I am compelled to leave you.
I can see the pale violet light
Where the far mountains speak in secret
To the cumulus clouds and bunch
Them together for those afternoons
Where Bach becomes the perfect
Measure for all thought and we can
But follow, traipsing through
His math matrices with our feelings
Out where everyone can see them.
All music without words commands
The altar and demands respect.
Despite great declensions of information
It is simply not accessible.
Forever, make it part of our speech
Keep it under our fingertips
For as long as possible to recreate
At will a partita or a prelude and fugue
Or the incredible joy a conversation
Might have when we discover
Bach in a new and perfectly sensible