My good friend and Center Stage Strings cohort Bill Haxton is a talented writer and has graciously agreed to share this wonderful poem with us. .  We share a mutual admiration and wonderment at the masterwork that is Bach’s Chaconne.    Bill took an interesting approach and actually wrote this from the perspective of a skeptic.  Enjoy


Let me see if I understand you.

This moment began three centuries ago

when Johann Sebastian Bach poured his soul into a constellation

of pen strokes?  And you say those notes on paper are like

tiny stars bursting to radiate beyond their musical

fieldlines?  What?  Are we supposed to believe there’s something

more to this—what did you call it—a chaconne or something?  As if

this music had some special power to penetrate, like neutrinos

passing through Earth without touching a single atom of it?

I don’t think so.  There’s not enough space in us, not nearly enough

to enable these ephemerals to get past the hammering clamour

between the ears.  No.  And it doesn’t mean a thing, all us sitting here

transfixed—and I admit it—me too—because it’s not the music,

it’s just the collective consciousness working, our synchronous

background radiation, the human universe in D minor,

which Bach couldn’t have known a thing about.

Or could he?

Oh my god.

©William Haxton 2010

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