between meals

I am making a meal
of graham crackers and brie,
and coffee gone cool, while
awaiting awaiting the next 
of this symphony.

Oh I putter about, and immerse
in serene - but it isn't a patch
on whatever and all that it means

in each moment one wave of baton
two dueling conductors pass back
holding forth well over the heads
of joint orchestra bells, timpani, 
first violin, oboe, bassoon and all 
such impeccable swells of feeling
response, as a new movement comes
and begins with a start, up to swoon,
perchance - or wherever goes art. Risen
up to attention, and so to bear down! Bear
in so to set upon all thought and sentiment 
flailing or waving or wheeling around,
all wrought across staves and by note!
In precision and play: extracted
and spent in the air. To be caught now,
in ear, heart and mind, and perchance
to keep. Or to stay. To be saved, and
so saving all days wherein so fine
a passage replays. as memories prize 
more than ever, we find. These concerts 

run long.

We don't mind. The program's impromptu;
the orchestra clowns, but somehow
the crowd won't grow antsy, or blue,
or get down. Except

in the funkier sense. Somehow all this deluge,
uplifts all our soaked and foundering boats,
and the crown never drowns.