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, by Dev Asangbam
Robert L. Martin

Cello Tears

Cello tears flowing through the mournful night
bend around the corners and angel’s flight.
Sepulcheral melodies fall upon the tombs
through dark corridors into hollow rooms
and fill them up with reminescence and pain,
touching the senses like the penetrating rain.
 
They stir up the glassy waters of the torpid spirit
with a haunting sound like a rousing lyric
as the pain writes a story of sadness and woe,
touching the soul and invoking the tears to flow.
 
But what  is life without something to feel,
and something to make it real,
and something to bring about sensitivity,
which the mournful music of the cello does?

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