My voice is you.
I see you breathing through
The tones you made.
With subtle power built
Out of your soul and brain.
How can I make it known
This voice of mine has its source in you,
A life within a life.
My tones across the footlights of an opera stage
First vibrate through a harp with dulcet strings
Stretched taut across deep space,
That is the unexplored mystery of you,
My voice without this vibrant touch,
That like a breathless wind
Haunts through unknown strings,
Would be a dead and lifeless thing …
Do not go too far away,
For with such deep space between,
The fire dies, the vital force
That I am known for in my voice,
That marks my personality,
Grows weaker with each league between.
I dread the spring when you most nonchalantly
Leave for Paris and Berlin;
I dread the spring and your cool handshake and farewell.
You leave me weak and spent,
Though others look deep in my eyes and kiss my hands,
If I would give, it would be at the price of voice,
The art that I have labored for so long,
The price of ever feeling free again
To draw as from a well this power in you.
You are my life, my art; go not too far away;
Stay not too long from me.
(Isobel Stone)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Mind Poems, Fire Poems, Art Poems, Spring Poems, Space Poems, Brain Poems, Performance Arts PoemsBased on Keywords: unexplored, handshake, footlights, nonchalantly