Her Song

"These sounds are virgins," she says,

with understanding baffling even truth.

Born from her lips they are like new-fledged children.

Formed by her will and purpose

they flutter forth in seeming chaos,

but willingly, and each knowing its place;

they’re all individuals.

Each stands on its own;

pure, unadulterated, and strong.

Fresh to this world, unheard, untouched,

imbued with nothing more than purity’s own passion

they combine and lift each other to greater glory still;

to glory where words can only take away,

where beauty transcends into emotion, spirit even,

resonating from the depths of eternity,

aggressively optimistic.

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