It begins, mere whispers among smooth strings,
A single blossom opening, prudent.
Rarely is it noticed, such happenings,
The bud, delicate, waits for the moment.
Soon, the sun sends its viviparous rays;
Drops of dew glisten, adding harmony
To that which the blossom already plays,
Scattering iridescent euphony.
Gorgeous tones of color, bringing the scene
To full spectrum; displays of true beauty,
Colors invisible to eyes so keen,
Only the ears can fulfill their duty.
The true allure of music is ner known
Until he who listens plays his own tone.