Unsung Symphony
Orchestral notes and chords fly echoing
Orchestral notes and chords fly echoing
To a vaulted roof that resounds their notes;
Each beat and measure swiftly following
The ones before. The music floats
Upward in ascending stairs of melody
All strings, brass, winds combine in harmony
The organ roars and trumpets ring
The flutes do trill and strings – they sing!
So lost am I within the song
At first I do not know what's wrong.
There's something amiss within the tune
And though I listen when suspecting wrong
I cannot place the lacking loon
That so deviously has left the song.
Then with another trill of flutes and strings
I faintly detect the missing things.
With a thunder-clap of cymbals crashing
And a tinkling scale of harpsichord flashing,
I hear the loss as clear as day -
The trumpets corps! They've fallen away.
Still the symphony echoes about
The vaulted hall and organ's voice
With rolling notes does aid the shout
Of strings still scaling in perfect noise.
But the trill, the trill! I cannot hear
It anymore. Was it not there?
The harpsichord yet tinkles along
The percussion ranks still boosts the song.
What then is missing? The lighter tone
Of wood-winds whispering is gone.
Anxious and enraptured I fall into
The song as it bears my thoughts afar
Until, with a start, I hearken to
And hear but silence where the percussions were!
Strings, organ and harpsichord
Continue playing in strong accord.
Then with a last and bright fanfare
As if to say “Beware! Beware!”
The harpsichord fades from its place:
Strings and organ alone in the race.
Bass, viola, violins and cello
Raise a vast melody and harmonize
With the sweeping organ's rising staccato
Vying even as they recognize
Each other's place within the music.
I wonder “Which one next will lose it?”
And am answered a moment later
As with a soft and gentle patter
The viola slide and cease to sing
At once the bass is not a thing.
Violins and cello race with the organ
Panting, rushing to reach the end.
Each one trying a little more than
His counterparts – no more pretend.
First one then three cello falls silent
Two, three, four violins fade away
And with their loss rises excitement
As still in might the organ does play.
Plays and runs, rolls and tolls
The cello are gone! Yet one string pulls
Ahead, one last lone violin
In the organ's raging storm does sing.
Bright and clear the single string's notes
Cut through the tempest to sing a new theme
Which rising in sweet harmony floats
And rides the organ's waves like a dream.
Slowly the song loses its rush
And with an echoing, profound hush
And single deep chord the organ's voice dies
Only at this moment we realize
That this song was never made
To be unfolded or to be played.
No, as the violin's last high note is rung
We see, at last – this song was unsung.
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This was a test post created for and written by Thalassa Bryataye. I did not write this poem, merely reposted it because I think it is amazing. <3
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