The Symphony

Tall, knowing trees danced in the soft breeze that carried a sweet melody.

Drums beat to the cadence of fairy like flutes which sang whimsical songs of joy, heartache, and longing.  

Violins carried a mourning wave across the empty feilds of flowers.


I spun, feet pointing as I lept across the musical procession.

My hair was firey passion against a blueberry sky, silken flames which gave and consumed.

Soul and movement became one, a slender body pulling, twisting, reaching.

A sudden blow.


Like the waves crashing upon sand, blazes extinugished, the light grows dim.

Bird songs are haunting memories of their former cheer.

The trees, the grass,  the flames... all was still.


Slowly the music began again, the dark symphony, unstated.

The twisting violins, cold and harsh against the bashing drums which echo in the wake of demonic flutes, leapt to rise again.


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart.  

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