strings

Ears syncing with each repercussion. The pounding harmonious with the bass. The melody improvisational and the fusion afresh. The audience choir-ish.

And I lose focus, it seems. 

Suddenly there is a momentary silence that fails to register. The music disappears before the coda. A new rhythm spills and unheard notes hit. The rhapsody transgresses to the psychedelic before settling in to the tranquil. I listen to this new euphony. The pitch in tune with the mind. 

All seats are empty now. But one. A silent soprano adorns the seat. She is also the composer - for this song and the previous. Her first strum marks the beginning of a symphony; its prelude, I repeat at each concert. 

She transforms the air through my flute and renders the theme through my strings. Her lyrics put me with the troubadours...

And I lose focus, it seems. 

The interlude is over. The tempo is lost and the hymn at its end. The sounds I hear are different and  the lost coda follows. The allegro is higher. The melody improvisational and the fusion afresh.