SINGING IS THE BREATH OF INSPIRATION
Singing is the breath of inspiration day and night for me.
Bringing me a constant jubilation hence I’m so joyfully free.
I’m flying off with robins and sparrows to some paradise in the sky
where there are seldom sounds to be heard beside birdsong.
Soothingly drifting through my ears far beyond the horizons as they imply
their rhythms and contour expressing clearly here is where I belong.
Every passing moment seems to be moving leisurely so perfectly slow
glistening in whiteness like a ballet choreographed in the falling snow.
Tender choruses born in ornithology I imitate to embellish and beautify
the innuendos of the perfect orchestrative wonder engulfing my senses.
Singing is the breath of inspiration accompanied by Nature’s symphony
releasing me from all bondage and emancipating me from agony.
Every verse and melody which sadly sits unsung will be taken out of dormancy.
Held high instead of being lost in ages forgotten. They will ring anew
touching the souls of the wandering as the music cleanses
their woesome worries and encompasses them with excitation.
Arising the sentiments by conveying emotions is the perfect normalcy
of the romance of a canticle which raises the inner self to pursue
the splendid passions which occur when one is enthralled in listening.
Singing is the heart in palpitation beating enthusiastically petitioning
an entourage of angelic dancers to manifest a magnificent rendezvous.
The result of this initiation warrants bellowing bursts so wildly
ringing the bells from all cultures who are vivaciously reconciling.
Beyond the utopic imagination each nation then strikes up the band
and jams with one dynamic syncopation and lifts the world to sing hand in hand.
Subsequently every mountain’s reverberation will echo over the ocean.
Overland the children will dance in exaltation springing in cosmic motion.
Sing therefore endlessly freed from your tribulations and prance along
to witness a token mystery which hides its optimistic smiling
to alleviate all burdens which may confront your heart of devotion.
The voice is full of eloquence with a cooing expressivity beguiling
the beholder as the songstress effortlessly pleases our notion
as our inclination for desire is irresistibly procuring some honeydew
sweetening our disposition as we daydream while confiding.
We whisper so gently our inquisition whether we can construe
our sympathetic feelings as they implore to remain an entire life long.
Then a funky style of blues flows through the late night air
resonating the rafters as a lilting swing thereafter comes from a balladeer.
Rapturous choirs have the simultaneous culmination sending to heaven a prayer
to rejuvenate the weary as their sparkles shine through the golden chandelier.
Reenacting the drama of life with an operatic gusto and instinctive flair
must be once again the alternative reinstating a romantic crooning gondolier.
Singing is the breath of inspiration waking the evildoers from their diabolical
plans returning to their precious days of dependency during their infancy.
We will leave this to the phantom of the opera with his form of necromancy.
Displaying our magnanimity and autonomy as the purer form of the logical
we assist the hermits to arrive from the transcendental as many throngs
chant in cantos proving the simplicity of a glorious form of the possible.
Singing is the breath of inspiration from every path to the greatest thoroughfare.