An unnatural silence echoes, an
ivy green conundrum set within.
Brown tendrils of belonging bolt
outright upward. No leaning for support.
Competition fierce in manners of survival.
And yet safety at home is of
the rarest joy. A hum. A thrum.
Of personality within. The hiss, the
buzz of protection. Roar responded
by chatters and squawks of every percussionist.
The trumpeter, debut in solo.
A string quartet transformed by
humidity, into a trombone of groans.
Conductors clothed in harmony,
foreign exotics, seizing music in their
own tongue.
Take a seat, ladies and gentlemen,
The Cacophony has begun.