Music In Between
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The mockingbird is singing in between
The orange grove and flame vine. Music floats
From nowhere seemingly. The darker green
Of grove and lighter green of vine have throat’s
Divinity between them, waving wide
In search of meaning or of something more
Important, more than notes can ever glide.
The melodies seem ceaseless. At the core
Of beauty, music sends illusion to
Our hearts. The hovering sound surpasses weights
Philosophers have loved. It floats in you.
The music seems eternal in its spates.
It comes and goes. It comes on ceaselessly
With song between its creases creaselessly.

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