On the Vitality of Music

A Year of Sonnets — 039/365

Photo by Kenny Luo on Unsplash

Now tender, a pianoforte sings
in every color human ears can hear;
by careful fingers, rainbows dare to ring
a pantheon of every thought and fear
inhabiting these willful mortal minds
and lifting them on high to brighter realms
of grace and memory; music reminds
the spirit of its roots. It overwhelms
the baser instincts, poisoning the skin,
decaying it to dust before their eyes,
so ossifying tender bits within.
A mighty song resists the world’s demise:
though flesh is transitory, souls endure
and music is their language, wholesome, pure.