A Few Questions For The Maestro

Where was the note
Before it was sung?
Hanging in air,
Coming from where?
Out of the ether,
It suddenly was,
While I was listening, was it listening for me?


Who holds the notes
Before they are sung?
Before they pick me and
I, in turn, pick them.
Who starts the song,
And gives it to me,
And lets me presume ownership?

Is there music in Heaven?
Does sound exist there?
Without human ears,
Does the spirit still hear?
Do the waves of sound
Flow through our souls
And touch us somehow still?

Is music never ending
Once it is heard?
Like our souls,
Just changing location,
And coming back around
To visit once in awhile?
Edie Batstone