The violin lingers in loneliness.
The three violins mingle in longing
with solitary cello’s moaning to bless
surrounding night’s mute wish for belonging.
They are we as one, no longer harming
our universe with lies, our feared desires,
our futile attempts at selfish charming
the crowd, the lover, the boss who fires
us through frustration. What counts now, it seems:
being truly human, learning honest
words and actions create love, fulfill dreams
we never possessed before this strange quest
to share and understand all. Violins,
cello tell us all, if we’ll just listen.
Roger Armbrust
January 30, 2019
