2:

Ad Libitum

Bacchus!
jumped out and saw me;
leaping, he
flew through muses' nimble fingers,
slipped on the rosin of their high-strung bows, and
plucked – pizzicato!
cross the satin rows
(I tiptoed)
through the oboe's muffled moan
(I snickered)
but the strings -
coiled, cringed, pulled me
back once more.

Cornered! I
sought refuge in the black
and yellowed keys, but
stopped – staccato!
With my eyelash throes, I
winked –
poof!
gone.

Then Bacchus – tossing hot chestnuts
snatched from Mother Winter's fold –
poured a luscious melody
through the trumpet's empty throat:
and into mine!

Laced
with timpani's tone,
with castanets and bows, I
spun –
a dervish –
a spark –
Accelerando, iskra! he cried!

A swooning sforzando
Bis! Bravo!
To tabor
To tumble
To fall!

Bacchus leapt in and
caught me;
and he, cheeks rouged, tongue
curled,
drank
the wind
from my lips.

*Inspired by performance of Cantus Ensemble, Nov. 21, 2005, Zagreb, Croatia.