Fini Lokke - Violin

A painting of a violin <br /> should be a violin itself <br /> for light to play it's gone. <br /> Within yourself you paint a violin that's gone, <br /> and wonder why a silent thing <br /> awakens memories of other times <br /> you never knew yourself. <br /> Those times when violins were built <br /> to meet demands for sweeter sounds <br /> than life could offer at first sight, <br /> hopes for the world to come. <br /> A distant sound from within time, <br /> imagined but to you as real <br /> as the word you used to tell <br /> what sounding board is for: it's soul.<br /><br />Fini Lokke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/violin/