Listen to the singing,
The singing of it all.
The happy and the sad of it,
Finding both large and small.
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Beyond the realm of day and night,
Endless crescendos play.
A light amidst the darkness,
All barriers giving way.
–
The music of nature leads the way,
With such a complex list.
The endless pulse of its beating heart,
So much of it is missed.
–
Crawling across a forest floor,
Beneath a burning sun.
Melodies forming an ancient score,
Sound and music as one.
–
A singing of birds.
A flutter of wings.
Through the hollows of trees,
A muted flute sings.
An oboe of frogs.
A snare drum of rain.
A rustle of leaves,
All whispering in vain.
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Out of the deepest silence,
Is every sound combined,
With all the songs that the world provides,
To permeate the mind.
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Gather the tones that sail around,
The reverberations of the throng.
Mix them all in a balanced way,
For the singing of the song.