Sensation Without Cessation

Sensation Without Cessation

The tunes pour loudly into my thirsty dry ears.
My tried soul and scarred body sway to the beat.
Forever wandering spirit and mind follow the rhythm.
Songs with words echo through all that is me.
My imagination floats free at chants without words.

In the silence spaces, I hear music when there is none.
Notes, I see that vibrate where others see darkness.
Words, notes, sounds, sights all make the melody.
I dance, run, sing, stand still, cry and laugh all at once.
My hands try to write that which flows relentlessly through me.
Sadly, that very paltry human act pollutes the purity of it all.
I cannot capture or express what it all means as it flows past.

Must one destroy self to release the dirge that lies beneath?
Should I expand to vapor to express the siren strains I see?
Must I join without reserve the slow waltz of the stars?
Can I meld with the strings of reality as they proclaim their psalms?
Do you hear the operatic vocals of the golden tongues of time?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Turner Avatar
August 7, 2016 at 9:30 PM
"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." I can relate,Hillard. Great job!
Sarver Avatar
August 7, 2016 at 9:44 PM
Thank you for reading and reviewing this writing. I am glad you liked it.
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