Like music we are,
all of us –
notes first here and then gone…
Born of wayward inspiration,
our legacy is our song.
And here is where the music plays,
there aren’t often many who listen.
But here are the times when others sway…
Captivating, powerful forces –
elemental frisson.
Instruments and voices, rise as undivided One –
drumbeats are heart,
refrains constant as sun…
Though our grace ends far too soon,
amazing are its lessons.
Lyric holds memory,
rhythm is moon –
even tides dance to its
undulating boon.
Like music we live,
all of us;
Our melodies the ample gifts we give;
Albums to shifty paradigm –
riffs to full perspective.
Like music we begin to fade,
all of us –
Though no song goes on and on,
strains of the chords we’ve made
linger in continuum.
As states of being
meld into throes of flux,
paradox is often seen
in the tempos we conduct.
Like music we trend,
all of us do, too true –
Scaling our bars up and up
then up again;
And then fading down
to black arrival of new.
But somehow, somewhere,
someone remembers
we were there.
Like music, we are –
lilting crescendos inner near
[and] spread pleasantly afar…
Like music,
we always touch someone, all of us –
And…
How powerful, how quintessential
we’re held dear,
We composers of mystical symphony;
We masters of our fear.
Kayfucius 