Waiting for a Chord

Waiting for a Chord

I am waiting for a chord
A mysterious strain of music
A key to a lock
I have never discovered.

I cannot know

How or why
This ephemeral chord
Exists.

But it does.

Even now

It is drifting in the cosmos
Among gas planets
And flashing novas.

It is winging through

Desert canyons
And the timberlines
Of alpine crests.

It is plying

With the rhythm of commerce
Down avenues
Broad and wide
Through alleys
Dank and dismal.

The magic chord

Is traveling to my ear.

When it finds me

I will rise
In glorious fashion
Clean and new.