Air upon the reed

Air upon the reed
 
Music is made by force,
controlled and constricted –
 
sticks upon the drumhead,
hammer against the strings,
 
air upon the reed or trumpeted through
the twisted brass; the fleshy larynx.
 
Impermanence is the price we pay
to dance to the music –
 
notes evanescing in mid air
to make room for the ever-returning silence.
   
There is a price for every piper.
It’s the ticket to the carnival.
 
No hellos, pilgrim, without goodbyes.
Sergeant Daily shouted to His men
 
(in a moment of divine clarity)
Do you want to live forever?
 
How about you, o child?
Do you want to live forever?