String Quartet

It is a mess at first

The bow strikes and glides across a single string and back again

The note wobbles for a moment

Then settles to a steady call

Joined then by the rocking and striated rhythms

Of another set of strings

And another

Then another

The tatters of sound assemble

Like clouds and squalls

Of a sea storm

Then silence before the storm

Slowly comes the rain

The thunder

The wind

Singing softly its message

We are awash in a sea

Of harmonies and melodies

Here it is useless to navigate

This storm will take us where it wills

Surrender is always

The best option

When accosted

By beauty