An Ode to Live Music

The lights are shut, the doors are closed

The instruments ready, pieces composed

They wait for the doors to reopen

Yet limitations are imposed

People couldn’t leave their house

Angry, agitated, and roused

They had to protect what’s dear

To remain safe; keep expenses mere

They yearned for freedom, desired to thrive

For outdoors they pined and for meetings strived

The players answered the call

They danced; moved; tried to prevent the fall

Writing poetry and performing plays

Paintings, sculptures, vases of clay

All was set for a big return

A ray of hope to diminish the stern

The time has come to open the gates

A culture to form, to reincarnate

In vibrant theatres and lush pages

To revive traditions for the ages

But in the audotorium, a void

All the scripts no one employed

No one read or eagered in the seats

Not a face in the hall or the streets

After another call no one came

No one witnessed the burning flame

On their way out, they noticed a stir

A blend of noises, chaotic and blurred

The people gathered for an evasion

Events disguised as joyous occasions

Pompous dresses and tedious suits

Consumption in excess; the chatter brute

The people are out, perhaps they are free

Yet when the players come, they flee

After months in isolation

They returned to degredation

Even after quarantine

And that was before the pandemic…

Ihab Azar finds that music, rhyme, and meter are the core elements that make poetry what it is and does his best to follow them. He owns a BA, MA, and a teaching certificate in English and currently teaches English courses at the Western Galilee College in Acre