Notes glide, soar, swish through the air.
Taking off from black-ink pages and landing in the audience’s careful ear.
C than an E followed by a G,
One-hundred fifty instruments follow one lead.
Some are radiant as the sun and others are dark as midnight,
Regardless of color, euphony escapes the concert hall, lit bright.
Some notes sneaky and treblesome cloaked in tremolo,
Thieving and sly trying to steal the heart of the show.
Heavy notes hug and emBass them,
Matching their extremity on the other end of the spectrum.
Some seconds pass with every octave singing the same note,
Others pass with arpeggios riddling every instrument’s throat.
Their masters let their muscles remember how to dance,
Dance on the stage of an instrument, notes defined, nothing left to chance.
From inspiration to seed, from seed to insight,
From insight to quill scratching on paper of white.
Now the man,the man who sowed the seed,
Conducts the show but plays every vibration vicariously.
He presents his gift to his audience, who is jittering of curiosity,
And he smiles as they receive with face brighter than New York City.