Listen, to the natural orchestral sounds
What perfect pitch
Organic poetry, in its purest form
No conductor, no composer
Just the element of morning rising
Concealed in the gentle fading of night
They return willingly
To sing to those with an open mind
But are minds thus open?
When light, blissfully engulfs all beneath
Another band takes to the stage
This one, a bellowing reality
No harmony, no excitement
Injustice and pain on the rampage
Just 'normality' is its name
Unadulterated Perfection disfigured by man
The battleground of affection, laden with waste
To piece together,
To regain a hold on our humanity
Each must ask a question
...
There can only be one victor,
When that precious moment arrives
If you are listening?
What will you answer?
Jeremy Bull. We have awaited this and you haven't disappointed. I love the way the first stanza sets the serene scene. But then it takes a turn, a question is posed that brings light the reality of the beauty: it is taken for granted. This is simply beautiful and beautifully simple in that you make the deeper things look as if they are simple when really, after you've read it once, you realise you have more to think about than you perhaps first thought. It didn't go the way I expected, but I love that. Thank you
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