“Ballade for a Street Musician”
So heavenly, from other worlds, notes stray
in station of the Metro, Washington.
Great music moves along a vast arcade
as people hurry on hear Mendelssohn.
But Bach is hushed as morning rush has won
though Joshua plays with all his heart and soul.
A street musician’s image most may shun
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.
An anxious crowd walk by. Â They cannot stay
to hear this troubadour play on and on.
That fear of being late his tunes allay
for one who leans against the wall with phone
and listens to the sweet, sustaining tone.
Then Bell must bend his bow to charm; cajole.
One listens as arpeggios now moan
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.
There’s wonders to be heard at break of day.
Notes float among their faces, blank and wan.
How busy are the echoed strings that sway;
how fast the people, moving hither-yon.
So, Joshua Bell, musician; an icon
with bending bow, his violin extols
and sweeps the air; his music’s lexicon
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.
Envoi:
A Stradivari is, to some, a beacon
yet only seven stop to hear the whole
of Paganini’s music for a reason
as someone drops a dollar in his bowl.
