Sculpting Sound

The cello weeps, a mournful sigh,
a lament for lost summers,
where soughing leaves and sun-drenched fields

kept memories intact.

Trumpet resonance shimmers, distant and hollow,
like the cries of migrating birds,
searching for solace in a fading light.

A drumbeat, slow and deliberate,
a heartbeat echoing in the cavernous space.

The syncopated rhythm of falling rain,
the gentle purchase of a waterfall,
a symphony of nature's lament.

The flute whispers a melody,
a fragile, ethereal song,
a memory of laughter,
of love lost and dreams forgotten.

The bassoon groans, a deep, resonating sigh,
a melancholic reflection of the soul.

The music fades, a slow, lingering ripple,
the hush of longing,
a yearning for a world lost,
a world of peace and quiet beauty,
a private world sculpted

A lifeline ever there

Awaiting the final diminuendo

Into breath’s pianissimo.