Hieroglyphics

Art or something else,

Connection or something else,

The ultimate bond—

Invisible threads,

Weaving across time and space,

Breaking the silence,

Healing the unseen,

Reviving forgotten echoes.

A voice born in one tongue,

Singing in another,

A language understood,

Yet never spoken.

In the heart of the forest,

Where tribes whisper to the wind,

Songs ripple through leaves,

Vibrations that shatter the quiet,

Transcending the canopy,

Reaching the unseen.

Whales sing beneath the waves,

Songs carried by currents,

Music to us,

Words to them—

An ocean of meaning,

Untranslated,

Untranslatable.

Hieroglyphics,

As if etched by stardust.

A harmonica plays,

And the dog listens,

Harmony born of breath,

Instinct meets sound,

A wolf’s cry to the moon,

Echoing through the night.

In music, we reveal the hidden,

An internal dialogue,

Transmuted into art,

A tapestry of infinite colours and waves—

Thoughts and emotions woven together,

Each thread a whisper,

Each note a shade,

Interpreted in countless ways,

Universally understood,

By beings of all kinds,

Sentient or otherwise.

We speak in words,

Man-made and fragile,

But music—

Music speaks in the spaces,

Where language dares not tread.