If music could be seen,
The notes melted down into sadness,
Its tears running down our cheeks,
Its melody wandering into the dark,
Running naked through the forest,
Bearing its soul to the elements
Like children in the face of trepidation,
But headlong into the danger,
Playing and laughing with the wind
Whistling through the trees,
Approaching beauty with eyes wide open,
Riding upon her effervescent spine,
Up and down her fragile back,
Bathing in her untainted streams,
Floating with the fragrant currents
On her pilgrimage to the Land of Oz
With ecstasy and sorrow leading the way,
As the music runs the gauntlet of sound;
Its sadness draped over the slippery rocks,
Its joy dancing with the forest nymphs
And singing to the mystery of sound
With a soothing voice and rousing spirit,
Touching the nerves with its fingers,
Pulling tears out of eyes
And putting them back into dreams,
Sprouting wings and taking to the skies,
Moving into spaces where beauty lives,
Where life is a soft golden sunset
And music is a dream embodied
That leads us upon a path
With arms that pull us into the heart of it,
With melodies that go inside us
And play upon our feelings,
As nocturnes reach down into the soul
And announce the renaissance of beauty
With its sad, vibrant, tearful eyes,
“A melody to the beauty of sadness.”

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