The others with their voices,

See nothing else beside

A harmonious blend of notes,

A rhythm tested, tried.


But not a superficial melody,

It is an exchange of parts,

An existence with one another,

A conversation of hearts.


Hear the violin entranced in love,

The cello singing in sorrow,

Every emotion in existence,

Lies within these notes to borrow.


The waves rise and fall in rhythm,

A conversation so deep and profound,

It couldn’t be expressed in words.

Only in measures in time resound.


And as we finish,

We put our instruments down,

Looking furtively at each other,

Each person retreating into their own world,

Shy again.


But no matter,

We have already laid our souls bare for the world to hear.