Individual wrote:I play the guitar and I think, "Someday I will be gone, so will this instrument, and all the musicians and instruments of the world; music itself will no longer exist."
That makes me very sad.
I further think, "Where does the music come from and where does it go? Does it come from or go to a special place? Could it resonate through the air, through outer space, beyond this universe, to a place where all music is heard and kept, where all lost things are found, which all souls can call home?"
It's like a snowflake that falls from the sky, beautiful for just a moment, until it hits the ground and melts.
THE KING OF ALL MUSIC
Of the many many fine arts
The finest is music
Not comprised of songs
Not melodies of words only
But of the most subtle sounds
The nada, the great vibrations
That spontaneously inspire all cells
Making them dance
The stream of life sings
To a particular rhythm
Flowing through the corners of life
Giving a new experience
Each and every time
In one direction it's music
In the other it's dance
Then paintings, then poetry
But the king of all forms
The soundless music
The music for insiders
When the veil of ignorance is lifted
Hear the finest music
Far beyond
This sound of silence
This voice of silence
The perennial music
The height of spiritual estacy
The highest state of joy
For self realization
(keep

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Individual,my youngest son is taking up music.He wants to rock the world.So I wrote a poem on music, a combination of his music and mine.I can't play any musical instruments, just good for nothing at that.