The Violin's Whisper

In the hush between two heartbeats,

A violin begins to sing,

Not with words the world can hear,

But with melodies that take the wing.

A violin spreading the freshness of the musical notes

Its wooden frame holds ancient tales,

Of joy, longing, of silent tears,

Each string creates a pathway to the soul,

Stretching across forgotten years.

The bow glides softly, but fiercely too.

Like rivers racing towards the sea,

Awakening dreams tucked far away,

Setting captive emotions free.

When the final tone drifts away,

And silence claims the room once more,

The violin lingers in the heart,

Its music echoing at the core.

For a violin is more than a wooden instrument,

It is a voice when the words fall still,

A companion to the human spirit

An instrument of wonder and will.