Thursday, January 13, 2011

the song



in the bowed strings
of a day

the consonant braids
with the dissonant

the whole
sees its mirror
in the part

and the song
that is the passage of my soul
through this world
melds
seamlessly
with all others

in a place
defined entirely
by silence


~


"music is the wine that fills the cup of silence. "


visual prompt provided by tess kincaid at magpie tales