The Bard

A bard, a druid, a magic man
Gazed across the sea
His harp, Clarsah, was in his hand
His fingers strummed her nine bronze strings

The music fought the wind for supremacy
Turned the sea mist into voices of deep longing
The embodiment of living melancholy
Underneath was an insistent beat
Like the thud of a mighty heartbeat

The people on the shore heard music on the wind
They wondered where it could be coming from
The people stopped their work and tried to comprehend
From the sea there came the echo of drums

I never heard a harp like that before
A woman’s cry of courage, hope, and fear
There’s never been music like that before
It’s almost too beautiful to bear

Is this music a warrior’s eulogy?
Or a woman bearing a child?
The Bard kept playing on the harp’s nine strings
Music radiant, sensual, and wild


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