STRINGS, lines, angles & things

by SiriusOryon

A line is not alone, but a part of a circle

As is part of the Light Spectrum, the color known as purple

It all depends on your particular point of view

Perspective subjective to the vision of few

Physical sight is based on a small string of light

Hitting a tiny disc in the back of your eye just right

Then again still, it isn’t your eye that sees

But your brain that interprets the filtered degrees

Parts of a whole funneled through a tiny little hole

Like time, but a segment of the journey of your Soul

All deeds connected from that first little string

Strummed by the beating heart that chooses between things

A journey of a thousand choices

A chorus of countless voices

All tied together in the song called life

Until the strings are cut but fate’s sharp knife

Nothing in Nature wasted

A sample of wine tasted

To steer the masterpiece of a lively symphony

Music is an art of coordinating sound temporally

A note, a scale, a yell, a wail

Climbing an invisible ladder only the Composer can curtail

The composed cannot envision the totality of the mission

Knowing only its little part as an abstract condition

Follow the lines through every place where they join and connect

And you will find they lead to a destination you could hardly suspect

The angles, the lines, the strings and other things

Twisting, turning, spiraling, into a circle that convenes

Forming a perfected design of functional living art

Beauty in the sum of every piece playing its designated part