The Silent Song

A light painting called "The Silent Song"
 

This began in conversation with others during a concert of Gordon Lightfoot where I was asked if I here music in my writing.  I could not help but say yes as the endless music of life surrounds us all.  This is my last piece for my fourth manuscript, and perhaps the theme through it all.

The sky is not big enough,

For all birds to fly,

The land is not wide enough,

For all things to run,

We are here for a time,

We are born,

We live,

We die,

All in preparation,

For true life to come.

A testing ground walked,

With hardship in hand,

Trials and terrors,

Joys and triumphs,

Moments come in the day,

And burn out like a flame,

A farmer plowed years ago,

Where a city now stands,

Footprints beneath foundations,

Where tall buildings sway.

Swaying,

Saying,

Staying in sight,

The Silent Song,

Plays through the night.

Our actions sound,

Like faded whispers,

Yet all do shape,

The heavens and Earth,

As a wind blown seed,

Sets roots beyond the mountains,

Filling a barren meadow,

With flowers to feed the air,

For the deeds of one,

To another give birth.

The sound of all colors,

Are an amazement to the eye,

As I travel among souls,

To which the green mountains,

Sing strength through the ages,

To which the blue oceans,

Serenade our souls free,

As the stars of black space,

Seek words we cannot utter,

They are the muse of the sages.

Swaying,

Saying,

Staying in sight,

The Silent Song,

Plays through the night.

With my words I record,

My travel of all souls,

Though I meet but a few,

I connect through my pages,

For one through another,

We have touched all,

For love is a bird,

We set free into flight,

Bringing joy to the unseen,

Throughout the ages.