H is for: Harmony

In my head: a soft landing. Soothed by sound,

Music portends happiness thereafter.

Listening in union, in contrast found;

Perfection pierced by dis-ease or laughter.

In this California town of 18

Distance is said to make for good neighbors,

As fences do, harmony lived and seen;

The faces, in glass, reflect their labors.

When we shun straight triads, blue notes we play.

Harmony is essence, absence of fear.

So I was told my performance would stay

And has resonated since in my ear.

The high notes require full falsetto.

The low note you can’t reach and never will-

Between fits all that you know or don’t know.

Once lived through, the voice at last can be still.

We give something up for this unity,

Between what we imagine, see, and hold.

Selfstrong, harmony or impunity,

The blend of things, beyond the hot and cold.

Saying yes or no, speaking together,

There are things for these words, words for these things.

Learning to say less about the weather,

Hybrid this and that, hybrid everything.

More and less than mutual stubbornness;

The margin, or what lies between the extremes.

Fighting against simple balance, I guess:

Between familiars in assent to dreams.

Harmony, CA 3/21/26

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