after Felix Mendelssohn’s The Hebrides Overture (Fingal’s Cave) [1833]
We’re afloat on the Sea of the Hebrides. We’re surrounded by the sort of seawater that glistens turquoise ’gainst cerulean skies. We listen to seawater’s splash & engine’s vroom—sounds that sustain a tension as taut as the strings of well-strung violas & cellos bowed to imperfection. We listen to our tour guide’s woodwind voice—the bold buzzing of a bassoon blown to imperfection. Soon enough, we’re acutely aware of this ebb & flow of the Sea of the Hebrides. It’s as though we’re now listening to the crescendo & diminuendo of violins scoring the last few nautical miles of our pleasurable pilgrimage from the Isle of Mull to Staffa—that basalt island that’s been growing & growing in our respective viewpoints, gradually revealing its key coastal features, gradually revealing its sea cave. The much-discussed & -snapped drama of the scene suddenly becomes real to us, suddenly manufactures a masterful melody that soars over rough seawater to completely capture our post-information-age attention. We actively listen. We hear the lapping & crashing of seawater on basalt—that timeless timpani rhythm. Soon enough, our soles touch basalt & carry us towards the barely lit recesses of a supernatural cathedral with supernatural acoustics. We find ourselves awed reverent revenant resonant, our varied voices becoming the bold buzzing of brass instruments: trumpets & horns. Someone voices their philosophy about each human being an island with a sea cave amidst some island chain. Someone else voices their philosophy about each human being the saltwater that fills a sea cave amidst some island chain. Someone else voices their philosophy about each human being dying. Our varied voices echo echo echo echo off the rough basalt columns. These sounds resonate. These sounds stay with us when our bodies reluctantly return to that moored pontoon boat for the rest of our return voyage. As the engine vrooms, our brass-cum-woodwind spirits are still moved by that cavernous rhythm…moved to follow it up up up up above the rough seawater, to rise up & sing with strings in tideless heavens.
Michael J. Leach lives on unceded Dja Dja Wurrung Country and acknowledges the traditional custodians of the land. Michael’s poems have appeared in journals such as Cordite and Otoliths, exhibitions such as the Antarctic Poetry Exhibition, anthologies such as Poetry d’Amour 2022: Love Poems (WA Poets Incorporated, 2022), and his two poetry books: Chronicity (Melbourne Poets Union, 2020) and Natural Philosophies (Recent Work Press, 2022). Michael jointly won the poetry category of the inaugural Minds Shine Bright Confidence Writing Competition.
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