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Sound Shadows

The tops of trees gracefully sway
To the wind that whispers
Soft music through silver leaves.
Eternal music, music of peace and solitude,
Embracing, engulfing, giving life
To weird thoughts and shadows
That live and move and die,
In half a breath or a thousand years,
To live again in future, past or present,
Here or a hundred galaxies away.
To dance and weave a spell
Through minds that only vaguely know
That beauty is,
And exists not separately,
But as a violin, fine strung
Within each one.
Each sight and sound and all sensation
Is the bow to draw one note,
Or sigh silently in worlds
Where science is the master
And every man a slave

The computer is just a tool
Ieke

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