Soul Flight

The tune is beautiful,
Full and vibrant.
It hums through the air,
Flowing like a warm wind,
A gentle zephyr,
Caressing the ears
Of those willing to listen.
Gently it lilts through space,
Flowing through body and soul.
Its presence is elusive,
Compelling all to seek it,
To chase echoing voice,
To hear more,
And find the source.
But this is no joyful song.
Melancholy and sad,
It whispers of days gone by,
Of lost love,
Of forgotten passion,
Of broken spirits.
The tragic chords caress the mind,
Enfold the spirit, the soul,
In its gentle substance.
Entering all, the notes join,
Become part of one's consciousness.
No longer is it insubstantial,
But instead an entity,
A despairing entity.
The sorrowful song grows,
Swelling within the chest,
Its perfect harmonies rising to
A breathtaking climax.
It rises and rises,
Growing stronger,
Growing more pervasive,
Becoming more compelling,
More moving.
The sounds soar upward,
Entwined with the soul
As the emotions of beautiful sorrow
Rise to the gentle,
Yet breathtaking, zenith:
The peak of perfect harmony,
Harmony of music,
Harmony of soul,
Impossibly unified,
Identical in purpose and emotion.
Slowly the notes fall,
Descending from their
Awe-inspiring ascension.
Soul and tune return to the body,
Finished with their exhilarating flight,
Their wind-born revels complete.
Slowly the music dies,
Fading as an intangible phantom,
Dissolving with its feelings
Of heartbreaking exaltation.
Even as its essence completely disappears,
The soul still holds a piece,
A sliver of that sad joy.
Forever will the music
Remain part of the spirit.
Forever will the doleful song
Haunt the heart,
Yet inspire the soul to fly. Ω