H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g
N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n
The Organist and The Child
I was the child beneath the covers
as you summoned the walls to tremble
my fears to wake
towards morning’s dusk.
With blanket and awe
I’d rise from startled sleep
to your Cathedral room
of hardwood floors and silver pillars.
Your back turned
your fingers deliberate upon the keys
your shadow like a God
upon the console.
I’d sit upon the three descending stairs
my pink nightgown to my toes
my love and fear, Father,
the master of music and insomnia.
My silence kept my presence secret
your magic, the night loud
with all you never said to me
nor ever will again.
[Originally published in NHS 1997, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs97/index.html#31.]