Cello Speaks

You know it needs to be a drum - sometimes. Slap the bow ride its low sonorous growl. then pass a long sliding caress across its hollow tongue. Let the music tremble out from silence. Reality can only mimic that emerging wave of sound, as if a hand were stroking a very dark cat. The cello speaks for you when lips refuse to speak of dark or light. Stay with the thrumming of feral strings on echoing wood, plant that music beyond any heaven or hell, for like that First Tree in Eden, it is innocent, and speaks no sin.