Life Is A Song
In diaphanous sapphire night,
the drizzle of argentine moon dust,
the existential epithet of
dulcet melodic descencion,
adorns the pearl-laced waves
of the rolling sensuous sea,
spread seamlessly before me,
beyond the baroque shore,
where I saunter with me
in the corridor of the musical mind,
and follow the tune of soulful symphony.
The rain-washed sparkling sky
spreads the seamless spectrum
of my opulent dreams,
weaved as the tapestry of fantasy
with the lattice of chromatic imagery,
the surreal strings design the splendor
of the charismatic rainbow motif,
arching over the halcyon horizon
that beckons me to the concert of being,
and feel fascinated the vibrato of life.
In the stalled turbid times,
defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotive impulse
into lyrical crescendo of concerto.
On its sonorous whistling wings
I fly in the rhapsodic sky of sonata,
to the harmonic realm of afflatus,
and realize the nascent notion
that life is a song.
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