Here Handel's harpsichord or Haydn's strings
Would tune a heart to deepest primal longings
And Bach's undulating tempo finds form and shape
In warm stirring sonnets of cold grey mountain lair.
In the distance, where the air is crisp and clear
Where the mist hangs low and still, rise tempest tune
Every note, fret'n bar defined in strained suspense
Like a sharp cresendo, the pressure too much to bear.
The mind rebels- at that moment, resolution arrives!
Swift and abrupt, like warm mid September rains
Fear and faith coalesce to reveal the naked heart
Like an ancient sentry at dawn's gate, truth stands.
The suns fiery arrows flung, the trees clapt'n danc't
Lifting hazy curtains hanging low in shaded air
Rambling rivers rocks rills'n ravines now revealed
Gradually becoming one,intermeshed before the eye.
If truth be sung from passion's loftiest heights,then
We, the music, and the caressing hand that play'd it
To richest harmony- ever wooing sweetest vibrations
Casting furtive hearts to gladly burn in hade's fires.
Lo! silent fenceposts proclaim life's unclad brittleness
Yet,ever racing thru-time, chance,beauty and mystery
One knows tis better; race and dance on cold grey days
Than to wistfully walk thru sunshine ever wondering.