Long past
Were these days present?

Some faint nostalgia calls
Like the black keys
The progression of fingerfalls
Dancing through the misery
And I was before language
When the notes played a masterpiece
Swirling through ivories and time
Did it transport me
To these days? To some beauty
That must still search out my soul?

It’s a corridor with two open doors
I felt forward; I now see back through
I hear the piano recollecting
Tenderly, as a primrose blooms,
How it sang years to me
While mine were still new
I have vague impressions
In smokey-ocean grays and blues
Of feeling these happenings approaching
Before one of them came true
Not in detailed view,
But as a series of emotional collisions.

But if, as a child, I could feel,
If, through the notes, I could see
Why did I always believe
A great Love was ahead of me?

Could I feel straight through to eternity?
Is that why I still feel Love is nearer to me?
Even closer than I think?

The Great Love Who calls and grants vision,

Who tells you what He is doing
Long before it appears,
Who describes His works
Before they draw near,
Who announces Himself,
Who blinds kings,
But gives children and paupers

The privilege to see.