Recently on Facebook I said, “After many years of collecting Christmas music, I finally downloaded Handel’s Messiah… and singing the Hallelujah Chorus chokes me up whether I’m in a church or the kitchen. I’m a big sap.” Here is the rest of the story. A Stafford poem

whether i am standing up front, clustered with the altos,
or singing along to a recording in my kitchen,
nesting warm, clean plates into waiting cabinets,
somewhere between “omnipotent” and “lord of lords”
it starts:
the voice breaks, and tears seep through the cracks
and always, always,
i see my father.

why?
in life, there was no connection between me, him and Handel.
but in death, his is the only face i see
as i choke out “forever and ever,”
wanting so badly for them to be true,
these words i cannot sing.