The silence of white roses
with deaf petals
beneath a muted sun
holds the music’s place
in a steady embrace
while the implosive force of entropy
passes by in an instant’s blink,
and then rhythm is reborn
as melody blooms anew
toward a colorful fruition
of infinite solar expansion
that even the gods
dare not question,
lest the miracle’s magic
lose its elusive power
and get washed away
by a chorus of down-pouring rain
that flashes with a fluid voice
along to the beat of thunder’s drum
as splashes of electric ignition
light up the night sky
with tremors of a vibrating crescendo,
adding the tension of dramatic flare
to the opera of existence
that flutters with grace
between the dimensions of time and space.

The song of the spheres
rotates in tune with heaven’s frequency,
harmonizes with evolution’s wave,
and cascades with a celestial voice
across the infinite tide of the sea
where the sirens weep in waiting
over the tragedy and bliss
of this experience we call life
as it unfolds
one note at a time
until the cycle has completed its spin,
the wheels stop turning,
the gears grind to a halt,
and the symphony reaches a point of exhaustion.