Origins

I missed posting anything yesterday, so I’ve decided to post two poems today. This one is the poem which inspired this series. I first wrote an early version of it nearly a year ago, and since then it has undergone quite a few changes. I still consider it a work in progress. However, the main idea has remained the same and shall no matter what I do with the rest of the poem.

Music in the making,
Listen close and hear
The finest melody,
Sung for the finest ear.
Still, be still, and wait,
Patient for that shyest strain,
Praise in its purest form,
An everlasting refrain.
Simple, profound,
In boundless life we find,
Glory shines around,
Those innocent and kind.
This mystery we seek,
Yet do not understand:

The finest things in life are meek, lowly, and unplanned.

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