Another poem. Enjoy.
Gracing her bow upon the strings
Music, her medium, is drawn,
But alas, not only from her violin
But from her own heart strings, as well.
Pulling her bow
Her magic bleeds the air,
Tenderly smiling
As she unlocks her colors and sparkle.
Observing the sky,
She extends her arm
And points her bow to draw an arch
And which she paints on utmost silence.
“A painter paints his pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence.” -Leopold Stokowski
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment