Melodic

Keeping in constant harmony

We are traveling on a composers wrist, we are what says is coming next. Be it harsh thud from the trombone. To a chirpy dance from the violin, it was crafted years ago for this moment. So we shall not hinder their future. The music speaks a language formed from embellishments between lines and a constant beat. Reoccurring and melodic in a way, unable to gauge a reaction from the crowd his back towards them. We will take their silence as a sign respect. Synchronised page turning. How strings on wood and glorified whistles can make those sit on a seats edge, as body hair stands on end. Vibrations penetrate, dancing on the senses. The audience stands as silence often follows the last note. Applause now the only sound that fills the theater as the maestro turns and bows.