The notes come from a heavenly source;
Ripped up by its roots unto many ears;
It will never run its course;
It travels through the solar system;
Never falling deaf upon loose minds;
In every crevice it penetrates;
It is the fabric that binds;
A universal language of sorts;
That fullfills natures woe;
The vibrations of the notes are healing;
For it has no fear of foe;
It can calm the binding winds;
For it is the lady of peace;
Soaring high to places unknown;
Like a newborn lamb's pure fleece;
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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