I feel in my bones that music lives,
That melody is timeless – old and new.
But what if consciousness is one
And being One – the same?
Suppose all song is nothing more than breath
That animates. The finger touching finger
From the power to the fore!
Think hard of it! If notes and chords
The artist thinks he makes,
Are nothing more than every bit
Of happiness and grief
Committed to the measures
In the everlasting Scales
That serve as mordant score
For all the interludes we live.
This truth would then explain the riddle.
How is it that the face of tragedy
Always stops the tune?
Whence comes the silence
When we undergo the heat of Hurt?
What if? What if? What if?
What if the ringing anthem never stops –
It’s just that hearing faints away
When moments of adversity storm in.
What if? What if? What if?
What if the music lingers long
And plays as loud and strong?
But we in helpless haplessness
Can feel only what’s wrong?
Then music then is life,
And life rings on and touches hearts,
With strings and keys and melodies
And never stops nor starts.