Strange that green growth survives,
though a dry yellowish look it gives,
music lost from keys white and black
seems to ring with the unseen breeze
where have all the senses gone?
where have all the flowers gone?
where have all musicians gone?
Gone with poverty, everyone?
Gone with greed, everyone one?
But no, there is hope,even with one
broken and silent ,
mind is alive
spirit is not dead
celestial sympnonies are in the air.