The ladder
Maestro Tadeusz, I respectfully disagree
with your sad poem
about the needless noise
of questions and answers
that lead to the unavoidable silence.
Questions pile up
one upon another.
All needed, all building a structure upon which
one has to keep climbing up
not so much as to reach above the darkness
that /I must reluctantly agree / bits our ankles
but to continue upward not missing a bar.
A noble definition of a human being:
he who does not skip a step.
A ladder of questions. And answers. And questions.
Once it commences, the climb cannot be stopped
since it would precipitate the fall.
That’s the rule only a few hear and practice.
Rembrandt’s old face is a necessary coda
before his next movement can begin itself
in somebody standing in front of his painting,
or just writing about it.
Maestro, silence does not have to indicate
emptiness and despair. Please.
It is rather a gathering of energy
ready to be experienced
on the climb up,
endless,
and so human.
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