The people with the wires in their ears ...
Impossible to say what they are hearing
— The leaf breeze can be a symphony,
And their minds wave like conductor's wands
As if it came from there, in the end.
There are so many notes allowed
In the silence,
The space is indulgent,
Like the stars that suggest so much
Yet ask so little.
Is he the hero
Of those unforgiving strings?
Is she in the arms of a mambo king?
Does the way the music forces you to gyre
Call spirits forth like flickers from a fire?
It's gentle the way that no one has to know
What goes on, what liberties are taken
Behind the screen
Where bass and drums, horn and string
Pretend they're only ushers to a show,
But the feel of the velvet,
The low golden glow,
That far-away look betrays
How a mystery has been committed here
And never will be solved.
