Now A Symphony

That One Note played over and over,

longing, mournful, angry, desperate–

once or twice joyous.

 

War could whisper through.

And career, family, art, music.

But fleeting and peripheral because

One Note Banging

blinding

SOUND SOUND SOUND.

 

Now little laughters, the sun rising, our skins softly aging.

The edges of things!

where before blurry, if not imagined.

Thank you…time?

for lifting that monotonous veil of Self

to reveal the symphony beyond.

 

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