THE ORGANIST
The massive hall was empty, I was all alone,
Save for the organist who seemed on a high throne,
The place filled with a cacophony of sound
That filled the air, no one could have found
More peace than my heart did as he played,
I felt no longer alone and no longer afraid.
The melody soared to the rafters on high,
I am sure through the roof up to the sky
Where heaven sat in rapture of the music sweet.
I sat, listened, each change my empty heart to greet.
First it danced gently like a fresh mountain stream,
Then a lullaby soothing a child’s restless dream.
Next thunder and lightening riding across the sky,
Fingers moving like a hummingbird flying by.
I saw no music, was no pause between each melody,
One continuous sound of perfect moving harmony.
The music slowed and stopped, he stood, came to me.
I could not believe what I saw, the man could not see.
Should I let him know I was there, my joy to share
Or should I let him think he was all alone in there?
He slowed as he came close, “Thank you” was all I said
He smiled, shook my hand, “I hope you were well fed.”
I could not speak, he could not see the nod of my head,
But he did feel the tears of my joy on his hands instead.

M Ann Margetson April 30, 2002