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The soloist closes their eyes and leans in to play their instrument,
an intertwined movement as the musician and their tool becomes one.
An ever so subtle look of one who loves to that which is intimate,
knowing the sentiment that was formed now may never be undone.

The dance is bittersweet as the moment has already began to fade,
a beautiful sight with the undertones of a melancholic symphony.
Even though the house lights stayed a lit and the music swayed
the musician could see the end coming of this moment so vividly.

This temporary music spreads out into infinity,
where all is left is the memories.
Notes and undertones that almost approach divinity,
where all is left is the reveries.

The house lights went out, the soloist left gasping for air.
Every delicate sensation overwhelmed but they didn't care.
Our nights filled with dreams of music as it drifts quietly off into the night sky forming into stars.
Maria Mitea Jul 2020
When the orchestra begins to play
serene melodies eternally free,
drifting over gifts of hypnotic beauty,
lifting you out from the depths of the sea,

A triumphant entry rises the curtain,
and the fantasy-overture starts its story,
as wondrous morning celebrates passion
striking heart chords with fresh glory,

Waves of the sound wash over thee,
as tempo rubato steals beats of free rhythm, giving birth to vibrant embellished pearls,
preserving virtuoso’s flawless gift,  

Violine pleading into the waltz of roses
rhythmic freedom mingling  harmonic trills,
dazzling whirlwinds diffusing tasteful fragrance carried by fairy-tales over hills,

Dreamy melodies slip under the gateway, hummers striking piano strings
broken-chords accompanied by murky nocturnal interlude, where words cannot fit,

Unnoticed by virtuoso’s glistening tears
witnessing in silence mesmerizing
sounds that would never be held
in-time at the discretion of the soloist,

Lost halfway in the ebullient coda,
and musing under the canopy of the stars,
glittering gold blazing display of bravata,
entering their kingdom in discrete contrabass,  

When the orchestra begins to play
serene melodies eternally free,
drifting over gifts of hypnotic beauty,
lifting you out from the depths of the sea.
Seazy Inkwell Apr 2019
Melodious, luminous

a small plumage of sounds

Found you, fond of you

The first string laid across the back of Spring, you sing

till my eyes grow rusted and my limbs frost with moss, 

you perch still upon the branches of my broken fingers,

missing not a beat, a note, a loss.

*

Sing for this sunken world continuously,

my one and only
soloist
Max Richter - Vivaldi - The Four Seasons, 1. Spring
https://youtu.be/DLDvbnK_Sqk
Today I learned I alone I'm responsible for my emotions, the only one who cannot let go.

— The End —