Missing notes of music,
Rawly played over and over again,
Where elusive sounds turn therapeutic,
And never seem to end.
Concerts before dinner,
Instruments come alive as they are fed,
The beginner’s appetite grows bigger,
For encores before bed.
Living goes on in song,
Jazzy rhythms, soothing ballads when sad,
But all along the missing notes make strong,
The hearts of mom and dad.
Soaring music resounds,
Precisely played, missing the missing notes,
It surrounds, filling house and walls with sound,
And the love it promotes.
Hallways have grown quieter,
But the house still hums mysteriously,
Idle instruments, in dusty silence,
Hold notes in memory.
Behind the lines
I take great joy in listening to my children learn and practice their instruments. This was written about their learning process with the thought that one day the missing notes will be missed.