My Part in a Cacophony

I cannot write the lyrics
Of the song I’ll never sing;
I like it so much better
When it is but a dream.

There’s a beautiful cacophony
In which I’ve hid myself too long;
An Edda which I love,
But to which I don’t belong.

It’s become my orchestra;
My wonderful distraction.
But I could never write a song
To brush the heights of my imagination.

I find it thrives much better
When it never leaves my mind;
So I will leave it there, pretending
That it’s something I will one day find.

4 thoughts on “My Part in a Cacophony

  1. Yes, Rachel, may it continue to be your mind’s soundtrack! Hope always is most motivating with a good theme song. It’ll be your “Eye of the Tiger,” except, you know…cool.

    Meanwhile, we’re working on your real-life tunes too. You supply the lyrics here, and we set them to song. Sometimes vice-versa.

    When you accept the Grammy, will you remember this collaborative effort? Oh, who cares about that? When you top Billboard for, like, the 128th week in a row, could we crash on your couch?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hah! That’s actually kind of similar to the conversation with my sister that prompted this… She joked that all I would have to do is set my poems to song, and I could be just like Billie Eilish (It’s an established fact among my family that I’m secretly a Billie Eilish fangirl). Of course, I had various objections, such as my lack of musical talent, or even basic technical music understanding… But, hey, collaboration would be a work around that. Although, it would be far more likely the actual performer would be the one getting the Grammy, and I’d be the one crashing on your couch. 😝

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh, I don’t have a couch. Just big marble blocks. So chic, huh?

        We musicians have reputations, after all. What good is a bizarre, pointless extravagance if it doesn’t baffle people and make them think we’re painfully deep?

        Same thing with those mousetraps that line the floor. No rodent problem, just profundity. (See? There he is again.)

        Snap! Ow! Son of a…biscuit!

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Big. marble. blocks. I don’t even know what to say to that. Maybe if there’s at least cushions? Or a few extra blankets lying around? I might be able to work with that. Not sure about the mousetraps though.

          That profundity, he really does get around…

          Liked by 1 person

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