There’s something rather poetic and difficult to describe when you chance upon opening an account you have on a social media network, and come across a piece you rarely hear performed (it’s a lovely piece, by composer: Francisco Lacerda). It starts to play and suddenly before your eyes appears something else. As you look you inequivocally, and instantly feel yourself identify with the youngling, saying – ”Aw, the same as me with my dog”) – but, what you’re listening to takes you a such step beyond that, it takes you a moment to fathom that chance poetic cadence, laced betwixt sight and sound, before you.
And thus you sit, enthralled, in a state of warm wonderment, beyond words and explanation.
(the above ”clip” may take a moment to load and be visible)
Sung the babbling brook
dancing cooly in the breeze
in sweet surrender
to a soft chinook
as it passed, warm and ternder,
fragrantly through trees,
where the humming bees
parade their brightest yellow
to a flutt’ring halt
stiffened furry bear.
59 syllable poem. – ”575 575575 215” form | 3 haiku + 3lined strophe