The Song

      
        

It comes again, yet, yet again,
I hear it in the night
coming again and yet again
Do you hear? You must listen
there again, please listen
music never man wrote,
no scale can compete
nor can pen recite.
Bamboos in the evening breeze ?
Perhaps, even sky-lark whispers ?
I wish I knew, I would tell,
too good to keep.
Surely you hear . . .this is real
too real to imagine;
an air pulls at my heart-strings
come close and share,
tell me what it is . . .
I think you know.
Do you hear it in the night?
Music never man wrote
nor pen recite.