Plucked

In silence we sit and crave the choral caress
of the pulsing viola inside the chest.
Just a simple pluck by a solo’s tone
that brings its sounds with thrumming touch.

And we quiver in that quiet,
which suddenly shakes our stillness
feeling it resonate in such spellbound strums.
Oh what dulcet chimes are played
when the lips are heaven’s musician.

It is song we might have never heard,
but once it rings within where we live
all the world hushes from the vibration
as we are transfixed by the mesmerizing melody.

Though we may have slept through chaos,
though we might have dwelt
among the clamor of mouths,
once we know the hymn of inner sway
how it stains our soul with its serenade.

For we wake to the charmed concerto
moving us out of our lethargy
then into a chamber music’s airy float.

Peace hums its soft lucid strokes,
love rides the mind from the creation
while we are washed by the waves
of tranquility’s flute.
Happily dancing us across the clouds
by its harmony of wings.

Thus the rhapsody echoes
when it calls in our emptiness,
nothing filled by that bewitching bliss
where each chorus completely inspires.