O music the transcendent gift
our minds it’s soulful wings
that soar throughout the intertwine
of pain and lovely things

We cannot comprehend but feel
the treasure that it is
This human passion that conveys
in ways words can’t express

For notes on page are soon transformed
into the beauty played
on canvases of quietness
with lines musicians paint

The anguished chords of love and grief
impassioned melodies
Find in rest the irony
that silence louder speaks

And too the voice of romance lost
and feelings that we feel
A calendar of memories
with joys that are still real

For music knows no cruelty
to blame or to forgive
But the pleasures that we hear
yes only God could give

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