When morning’s hush is pierced by gentle sound,
A single note that dances on the air,
Within that whisper, endless worlds are found,
A silver thread of wonder, light, and care.
It weaves through heart and memory alike,
Invoking joy, or drawing forth a tear,
In music’s arms our weary souls take flight,
Its symphony dispels all care and fear.
What art so deftly paints what words can’t reach?
What balm can soothe the wounds that time reveals?
The beauty found in music has no breach;
Its truth in every trembling silence feels.
From ancient pipes to digital delight,
Music endures—our darkness births its light.
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Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 30th, 2025 01:20
- Comment from author about the poem: Just heard that Alison Balsom, a great trumpet player is retiring after her performance on this years Last Night of the Proms.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments3
Good write Gold.
Thanks Orchi.
That's better - you are back on track, Andy.
Most kind Dave, thank you.
Andy
So true Gold each type of music gives different vibes and each for a certain mood or occasion. As for me I prefer music that has soul and since up to now AI has no soul I don't listen to much of that. Good write my friend
Thank you soren, I listen to many types of music and it all gives me emotions of differing types.
Andy
Most welcome Andy
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