Photo credits Judy Meeker
Staradivarius created the violin
From a piece of wood he found from Noah's ark
And with the inspiration of a song sounding in
The Throne Room of God's heart,
An then,
History crucified the violin
All for the sake of art...
Song #1
The firebird's face was like a chamber where the sun,
Shed his evening rays then lies still,
To briefly rest before wandering on,
To another place behind some hill,
His features these of which no one can forget,
His eyes, his feathers every one,
The literature not written the poetry not yet,
All things as yet undone,
My body was broken in his flame,
Like that of a woman's heart for some man,
Or that of a wandering wrath with no name,
Aimlessly wandering across strange lands,
Feeling neither love nor pain,
And carrying a rose in nail scarred hands,
Through dry hot days without rain,
No wind, no light, and no sound,
No hope, no dream, no loss, no gain,
Nor cold sweet water bubbling underground.
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