Melodie: A Symphony

You emerged into a world of silence.
Silence anticipated.
Announced by a cadence,
Interrupted V to IV,
At almost forty weeks.
You suffocated me with your silent, symphonic ether.

280 days with you
And your tiny movements,
A chordal path towards being you,
Kept in time by the ticking of my metronome heart.
You usually made such a cacophony,
Polyrhythms congealing,
A constant hum.
Whether a Fats Waller bass
Or a long Tchaikovsky phrase,
Hissing hi-hats,
Smacking snares,
Kick drums on the hide of my stomach.
Never silence.

I knew.
A monotonous buzz stuck a chord.
Foreboding,
Building,
Eventually evolving to the anguish of Beethoven's symphonies.
A furnace.
But the 'professionals' didn't notice.
Rather the 'professionals' didn't care.
Chalk it up to hormones.
They paint by numbers, a calculated art.
They were wrong.
You were Lost. Gone. Missing.
Violins squealing.

Inducement, Pephodine and I battled on,
Musicians on Titanic.
Nearer my God.
We were prepared for the silence.
No lone oboe cry after clamourous fortissimo.
Just silence.
All to see you but never to know you.
To love you but never have you love me back.
We were cheated.
You weren't supposed to go before you came.