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The Duet, by Jan Miense Molenaer
Robert L. Martin

The Fulfillment

 
 
Deep down inside where
Space is connected to space
Where oceans sing of empty limits
And time is a roving vagabond
Lies a receptacle with no name
 
Its ears discern without knowing
It hears the silence of the air
Its heart beats in an exotic language
It romances the unromantic
It moves without any effort
It sobs when it hears a certain sound
It laughs when the world is crying
It swims against the current
It fills up while all else is exhausted
It takes the trivial into its heart
And massages it until it starts to sing
 
It lives on a separate island
Far away from all reasoning where
That benevolent beast called music
Lives on the highest mount
 
It sits upon the throne
Waving its royal scepter
Where democracy is a far cry
And supremacy reigns
For if music lost its authority
How could the world exist?
How could the dancing
Dance to the silence?

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