orchestra

The Concert Hall

An orchestral flood,

 

Loud and passionate,

 

The music reaches all corners of the Great Concert Hall,

 

A triumphant crescendo.

 

Near silence follows.

 

The tempo changes,

 

The volume drops,

 

A flute whispers.

 

A melody almost childlike,

 

Clear but barely audible.

 

A lullaby or a hymn,

 

Or a love song. Or a poem.

 

The audience listens in tense expectation.

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Chimes

Folder: 
Simple Thoughts
"Wind chimes,
dazzling across the room
sweet sounds of wood
drumming against wood. 
 
Bamboo shafts,
making soft thuds
float to me,
the soft breeze
 
picking up
to send me
an epiphany of noise,
a realization of music
 
played by no one.
Absent, 
the musician who plays me this rhyme,
the symphony 
 
of the Ocean waves,
crashing onto the beach
played by the rustling,
green leaves
 
with each tree,
swaying back and forth
in dance.
In step,
 
waltzing across the dancefloor
of my mind
a orchestra of noise
turned into high tunes,
 
afternoon desires
grow like blossoming petals;
slow to open.
Though,
 
a sight to see,
smell when finished,
the flower 
of all the sounds surrounding me
 
this southern Summer Saturday
comes together
to soothe me away
into a lull,
 
a state of mind
I wish to hold on to,
while I can.
Before Monday."
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Windchimes are wild.