Close your eyes. Open your ears. Hear the song given to my heart.
Do you hear the sad saxophone squeezing out its cry in the night? Looking for someone to hear it, to appreciate it.
A song that sweeps in so slowly, humbly making its entrance. Soft whispers from the violins, humming almost timidly.
Are your eyes still closed? Is your heart listening to the song my heart’s been given? For now there is a bold crashing of the confident, cymbals as they brilliantly change the course of the speed. No sound can compare, white light reflects off of them as they collide.
88 keys stepping in timeless rhythm. Marching, climbing dutifully. The silence in between each note filled with the graceful harp, stunning and wise.
Can hear hear the happy flute flutter by? Tiptoeing it’s way to the clarity of the clarinets. Their sound so clear and conscise.
The French horn making it’s sorrowful, confused cry…clings to the tempo to try to keep up. Little does it know it soon has a solo that can only be filled by it’s distinct sound.
Along comes a piccalo, such an amuzing piece. Never could a piccolo make a sad song.
Lastly, the long strum of a cello sets the tone in the background refusing to be ignored.
The song of my heart…Can you interpret it? I will interpret it tomorrow after I give you a chance to read between the lines.