THIS LOVE by Laura Hornby Kutney

I often find my poetry inspired by unforgettable art, literature or music that captures my heart. 

Recently, while listening to Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, I became curious about the history and story behind its creation.

“Ode to Joy”, a poem by Friedrich Schiller (with additions by Beethoven), sung during the final movement, made this the first choral symphony by any major composer. It is also widely regarded by many, to be Beethoven’s finest work.

Sadly, by 1824, Beethoven was reported to be completely deaf and off by several measures while he enthusiastically conducted this final symphony at its premiere in Vienna.

My heart broke when I read that the audience, gave multiple standing ovations, while waving hats and handkerchiefs. Although they knew he couldn’t hear their applause, they made sure he would know and feel their adoration and appreciation.

To me, classical music feels like a poetry of sound. It even comes with its own dictionary of rich, beautifully detailed and descriptive words.  

I was moved by the story, chorus and music of this symphony, and was inspired to express my feelings in the following poem.

“Joy, beautiful spark of divinity.” ~

 Ludwig van Beethoven via poetry by Friedrich Schiller

This Love

by Laura Hornby Kutney

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This love, torturing me. Moving my tender heart ceaselessly with its exquisitely painful, yet beautiful song.

This love, a chorus of sirens so hauntingly lovely upon approach, I must lower the sails to listen, even as their bittersweet requiem will surely kill my yearning soul with pleasure.

This love, a lilting, candlelit nocturne to who-knows-where we will be led next.

This love, softer than a cloud caressing herself until a new arrangement is made, a single movement at a time.

This love, resembling a score of waves lead by the moon above, directing the sea, herself, to lap blissfully against my skin.

This love, an ever teasing, solo mirage in this vast, heartbreakingly beautiful pastoral of Painted Desert sands.

This love, a choir of shifting stars and seas and sands so breathtaking, I would willingly surrender to drown in their beauty.

This love, that itches so intensely, composure becomes impossible to feign.

This love, so pitch perfect, any knowing conductor would gladly bless the musicians to play and sing undirected, signaled by gently clasped hands, pleasure closed eyes and silently blown kisses.

This love. This love. Abundant and varied in harmonious interludes.

May the breathtaking ache of our symphony’s crescendos stretching towards the heavens never result in a standing ovation of an audience of angels. Let their knees be too weak from hearing our sways.

An Ode to Joy!—Forevermore replay!

Oh yes! I say yes please,

To this love.

Laura Kutney loves to laugh until her face and stomach hurt, and to sing really loudly. If you opened her toy box, you would find books, words, art, photos and a world of feelings. She can ponder a word for a day, or write a story in an hour. She has a photographic memory but is also dyslexic. Yep, the two coexist inside of her just like a little universal joke. Originally a chemical engineer, she is now a mother to her three children (12, 15 and 17) and writes everyday, writing mainly poetry and short stories. She has been married to her true love for 18 years and counting. Life is good and ever-changing. She counts on the second part of that last sentence sometimes hourly. She can be found as a featured author for the elephant journal, on her blog Mosaic Commons, and on Facebook.

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