I tend to muse a lot, and this is the result of one of those musing sessions. Take from this what you will; reviews are always welcome and highly appreciated.


Some would say that music envelops the great,

Twisting meaning – halting fate,

But there is another kind, I say,

Found in the absence – the sounds I now relay:

In the twinkling of a star,

and the dawning of imagination spotted only from afar,

In the pad of a single fingertip,

rubbing softly across the rim of a pursed lip;

In the footprints on the sand,

In change that no one can say they've planned,

In the moment when on his shoulder falls her head,

for "trust me" he has said;

In the words one will bury,

In the darkness found quite scary,

In the haunting memories found only in mind,

and the future that can never match past in kind;

Some would say that music is only in a crowd,

where word and speech become so loud,

But I found that when I sit secluded and look quietly around,

that it is in the silence music can be found.