The Long Coda

No mistake — we
will end in Music.

Take the full journey
to how we got here

and whether we start
back at First Drum (maybe

when feet shook the earth
while running or maybe

when stick hit stick or log
or rock hit rock — or skull)

or at First Song (maybe
with first imitation of wind or bird

or maybe when prehistoric lovers’ voices
pleased each others’ ears and 

repetition led to connection) we ran it in Music
and we will end in Music.  

We will end in Music,
blood singing through us.

We will end in Music,
wind in our hair.

We will end in Music,
hearts stepping down.

We will end in Music,
our lyric closing as we close.

If we were anything, ever,
we were Music — there was always

melody within, harmony to be 
sought and struggled for, rhythm

to frame it all; and when we’re gone
our survivors shall sing us home.

We end in Music 
which itself never ends, and 

perhaps that has been the nature
of God all along: the continuing Song

going on and on. The coda
of Beginning. The last lingering Chord.