Lyre of Present
A hopeful, intoxicating ballad encompassing a beautiful philosophy that we often disregard in our quest for tomorrow’s promises and their fulfilment: living and reveling in the many treasured gifts of today, the present moment.
Poetry Month Special
Amidst this tranquility,
In this calm state of affairs,
There lies a conundrum of voices.
Poised with determination of late,
Looking at the roadblock ahead,
A sense of the unsure ensues.
The nightingale’s song from a distance,
Reaches the ears of early morning risers.
The melody has a melancholic strain today,
As if the nightingale is not in its element.
The immediacy in its voice,
Derails the listener’s thoughts.
Music and soul have a unique sense of feeling,
For words often fall short,
Often inadequate to articulate,
The turmoil of inner being.
The pandemonium’s invocation is in the air,
Musing with an idea;
Idea of harking back to the nightingale’s lyre.
This time it will be a serenade,
Full of rhythm, full of gaiety,
Melody will be celebrated.
So what if yesterday was amiss,
So what if tomorrow seems in stress,
Today is what is in hands,
In this moment, find your song, your bliss.
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