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The Music of Life
- The Music of Life -
I hear the falling of the rain, outside my window's pane,
Like a drumbeat in the mist, that gathers on the plains.
The moon outside is a pale, white eye looking down below...
Like a sorrowful god whose name is lost, filled all with woe.
The branches of the trees seem to reach for the very stars,
Whilst each and every one of them bears years of old scars.
The owl I hear in the distance seems to cry out for the land,
As if it were the voice of nature, obeying some command.
Who, it seems to ask so oft, who shall bring the light anew,
Only the morning star's rising, may fashion that wish true.
And so with dawn shall come the sun, colors brightly wove,
On some celestial tapestry, the sky a bright treasure trove.
As if the stars were weavers, and the sky a canvas bare,
Waiting for glory to be writ, where naught had been there!
So comes the dawn anew, and with it the day yet unborn,
But I cannot forget the night, and with it the raining storm.
When sunlight comes through my window's pane so fresh,
Warming ever slowly my room, and warming too my flesh...
I swear that on each beam I see there is something divine,
For only a sacred hand could fashion, the fabric of all time.
I oft wonder where are the gods, since logic came to men,
Yet they are there awaiting the faithful, blessings to send.
Prideful mortals would stand alone, ignoring heavenly bliss,
Yet I would not turn aside a goddess, nor her offered kiss!
The crickets chirp in the summertime, a music of their own,
The birds whistle as they will, whilst the wind does moan.
All things have a melody, and my heart beats with one too,
I wish I could share the music with all, a symphony so true!
The music of life, and how if we listen we can hear so much,
It calls for us to join our hands, and let our fingers to touch.
In revelry like none before, save in the groves of elder lore,
Let us abandon our wills to the song, wanton for still more!
Each night, the owl takes flight anew and sings yet again...
Cast your care unto the evening wind, and forget your pain.
Build a pyre for your worries, let the smoke to heavens rise,
Start the day as if it were your first and seize it by surprise!
I hear the falling of the rain, outside my window's pane,
Like a drumbeat in the mist, that gathers on the plains.
The moon outside is a pale, white eye looking down below...
Like a sorrowful god whose name is lost, filled all with woe.
The branches of the trees seem to reach for the very stars,
Whilst each and every one of them bears years of old scars.
The owl I hear in the distance seems to cry out for the land,
As if it were the voice of nature, obeying some command.
Who, it seems to ask so oft, who shall bring the light anew,
Only the morning star's rising, may fashion that wish true.
And so with dawn shall come the sun, colors brightly wove,
On some celestial tapestry, the sky a bright treasure trove.
As if the stars were weavers, and the sky a canvas bare,
Waiting for glory to be writ, where naught had been there!
So comes the dawn anew, and with it the day yet unborn,
But I cannot forget the night, and with it the raining storm.
When sunlight comes through my window's pane so fresh,
Warming ever slowly my room, and warming too my flesh...
I swear that on each beam I see there is something divine,
For only a sacred hand could fashion, the fabric of all time.
I oft wonder where are the gods, since logic came to men,
Yet they are there awaiting the faithful, blessings to send.
Prideful mortals would stand alone, ignoring heavenly bliss,
Yet I would not turn aside a goddess, nor her offered kiss!
The crickets chirp in the summertime, a music of their own,
The birds whistle as they will, whilst the wind does moan.
All things have a melody, and my heart beats with one too,
I wish I could share the music with all, a symphony so true!
The music of life, and how if we listen we can hear so much,
It calls for us to join our hands, and let our fingers to touch.
In revelry like none before, save in the groves of elder lore,
Let us abandon our wills to the song, wanton for still more!
Each night, the owl takes flight anew and sings yet again...
Cast your care unto the evening wind, and forget your pain.
Build a pyre for your worries, let the smoke to heavens rise,
Start the day as if it were your first and seize it by surprise!
Published 20th Aug 2015
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20th Aug 2015 7:19am
22nd Aug 2015 8:02am
I am delighted so much that you found it a beautiful read, hon! As always, your sweet words mean a lot to me. Much love to you! :)
22nd Aug 2015 3:21am
Thats a beautiful poem, and indeed portray the rhythm of life. :) the rain, the sun and the music of nature. Good read dear Kara as always.
22nd Aug 2015 8:08am
This poem was a joy to write, dear Grace! Conveying so many of life's facets and their relation to nature and overall interconnected spirit was all part of the ebb and flow of this poem from the very moment I set my heart to penning it. It is a pleasure to see that you were fond of it, my friend! :)
