Grains and ridges glazed
The past made to be forgotten
A form unfamiliar to the self
Music played, notes sung
A distant lover’s longing caress
On ties stretched along the body
The song of birds reverberate
Humming through a new jungle
A standing tree to a seated forest
The applause of branches and leaves
The woods having come to life
As the bird long dead hymns an end
An elegy for lost friends
Screaming from chains bound
The violin cannot forget its birth.
Day Seventeen Prompt: to write a poem that is inspired by a piece of music, and that shares its title with that piece of music.
Inspired by the song of The Morning Of. It’s great. Listen to it here!
Although more inspired by the title and what it could be, rather than the song itself. An overreading might make it more apt still.
Flipped Serendipity 