Silence Abscence

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The violins played on through the night,

Weeping, mourning, praying for light.

And their sounds fell heavy, like the onset of death,

While every new pitch, gave the dreaming man breath.

For silence, he knew, was the sword of the dead,

And music—the life in the dreaming man’s head!

So the sad, listless, music gave him strength to dream on,

While the others, shallow, fearfull—like their music, are gone.

Dance the dream,

Or dream the dance,

Lest the reaper’s charge you be.

Yet never take a silent stance!