Voices rising in silken golden arcs,
Each syllable a glimmer in the air,
Each line a lantern, softly borne
Through the hush of expectant pews.
They gathered words like petals in their palms,
Breathing rhyme’s ancient rhythm into dusk,
Where hope and longing, gently spun,
Wove harmony from memory and dust.
Above, the vaulted ceiling caught their notes
And scattered them like starlight, trembling,
Until the quiet soul below
Remembered how a heart may open,
How verse becomes a bridge of sound,
And in that music, all are found.
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Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 23rd, 2025 01:04
- Comment from author about the poem: The Choir of which I am a founder member had their Summer Concert last weekend and we had a great evening. One of the pieces we sung is in the video.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments4
A fine write Gold. I must write something sensible soon. Poets are wasting too much time reading my garbage! lol.
Thank you Orchi.
Gold this I believe is one of my favorite of your poems. A lovely description of the power of music that transcends description in words and extends to sensation in general. A most lovely write
Most kind soren, thank you for your kind words.
Andy
You are welcome Andy
A lovely write of the happiness music gives to those who sing and those who listen, enjoyed the read
Thank you Tobani, so true.
Andy
You are very welcome
Excellent write Andy
Thank You Tony.
Andy
You're welcome
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