http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poCw2CCrfzA&feature=relmfu
Quiet Aurora
Yes...a poem,
an evening cello heaves,
as an old hand
carves
pain into music;
a young hand pulls the trigger
seizing souls.
Hearts weep in reprieve,
a dozen wooden coffins
we need at dawn.
Yes...a cello that drowns out the sorrow
of the grieving and the squawking of the NRA.
Yes...pain into music,
a poem, an eulogy,
a chorus of peaceful ache,
an arch of white angel wings.
TJKG
Ophélie Gaillard, Bach
Life times of loss. Quiet Aurora
Yes...a poem,
an evening cello heaves,
as an old hand
carves
pain into music;
a young hand pulls the trigger
seizing souls.
Hearts weep in reprieve,
a dozen wooden coffins
we need at dawn.
Yes...a cello that drowns out the sorrow
of the grieving and the squawking of the NRA.
Yes...pain into music,
a poem, an eulogy,
a chorus of peaceful ache,
an arch of white angel wings.
TJKG
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for taking a moment to leave me your word of wisdom.