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Violin in the Passage
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The Voices of Stones Statues engraved – into the rooftops
Stand still engrossed in the solo
Walls pass the echo of strings like yarn tails
Stone comes quivering – to life
And the violinist sways to his emotion
His hands tremble
much as the strings he flies
People walk wondering along the Strasse
Their thoughts are strung to vibrato
much as mine are – we listen
They walk slower to hear the moment
These stirrings come softly
come rarely
The time for the melody will change
But for now…
violin
The wording of this poem is
The wording of this poem is more delicate than the sounds of the violin that it describes.
Starward
Music has a language through
Music has a language through the doors of all dimensions..indeed
.....
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
I actually walked by this guy
I actually walked by this guy again today in Bremen. he is so noticable. I stopped immediately and remembered all over again why it was i wrote a pome about him.
Do you remember why we're here?