She cannot sing it
but only play it

note by note
key by key

in empty theatres
where you can listen

to Him who is
the cause of its hunger

for that sorrow
which makes the artist
whole.

She will play to me
skipping a beat

and finding a beat

the melodies that
remind you of it

sulking in the smoky air

dripping down the blue curtains
to the dark past

where His heart is torn
by starvation,

for it,
for you and I and her.

She will make the music

a spell of pure notes

magic which you can hear
filling pages
from emptiness

causing my heart,
torn by His life,
to see.

(c) June Perkins

from p. 14 Shadow Puppets