The strings remember

He sat in the shadow, violin in hand,

Strings all broken, too tired to stand.

Eyes like clouds, he could not see,

But he whispered, “Once, the notes flew free…”

No bow to glide, no song to play,

Just memories fading day by day.

Then came a voice, so tender and near,

“Let’s try together, I’m right here.”

With threads of love, she tied each string,

And gently said, “Now let it sing.”

And the strings remembered, the notes took flight,

A song of morning chasing night.

No eyes to see, but he could hear—

The sound of joy, so bright and clear.

(Ending)

Sometimes music comes from pain…

But love can bring the song again.