The lightened drip of single voices
droplets fall to meet the stone,
sing with resonating choices
a pebble, repeats its tenor tone
in mellow, normal phrases.
And gathering then, another sound,
cacophony of voices mold
as chords and dissonance abound,
a single roaring river’s hold
on ebb and flow in places.
In counterpoint, with rise and fall,
the song meanders as it seeks
annointed clamors ring and spall
a rush ascending to its peaks
with nothing heard in spaces.
Enjoyed the beautiful poem (although “ebb and flow” is a little too close to home right now, if you get the joke after reading my last piece 😉 )
Thanks for your kind comments. I understand the timely humor. I appreciate the visit to my blog.