Is it even possible to imagine the first human song?
Not the full-throated howl of nature but something new,
Fired in the soul;
No mere mode of communication,
But a plaintive wail against the nothingness of the night,
A joyous burst of celebration,
Intense emotion made tangible only for a moment,
Then dissipating into darkness.
One voice then two now more
Extracting the fear or pain or alone or love or laugh
Distilling it to melody.
How can one explain what music does?
Sound pulses electric from the heart and mind at once
Curls around the feet and head and envelopes from the inside,
Struggles by succumbing, relents by resisting,
Dances in the architecture of each painted moment.
What will be the sound of the last song?
The last music an ear will hear
The last note committed to memory
Defiant, lonesome, aggressively surrendering to silence.