Singing the Praise of "Hallelujah" [poem]

I hand you several variations of the same song; each time lyrics change, something new is found, previously undiscovered but nonetheless intangibly true. John Cale slipped past Scripture to modern pain. Buckley's single, weary sigh betrayed the tenderness and vulnerability that later led him to embrace waves.

These words reflect my heart, as I hope they approach your own. The search for the undefinable, desired impossibles lived and breathed within a single life.

k. d. lang approaches contentment or easy acceptance. Her voice cascades across notes glides amongst emotions.

I know I am far from the first to hear these words of the unattainable and think immediately of you.

Maybe it sounds best in Cohen's original; grave tones expressing the gritty reality that even his words struggle to explain.

When I think of you, I can block out Cale's singular vision, Buckley's openness, lang's sweet caresses, but Cohen's words remain.

Because I cannot pretend to misunderstand words I have memorized.