poem | choir of voices

come spring the warm wind brings not one 
falling blossom but masses on the run.

a melody and weak strum was where we begun
now watch as it blooms into tales and love.

a choir of voices sings
where before there was only a faint hum,

lean on this melody, walk this bridge and
chorus. feel it bend under you

burden the weight that
will not break.

the groundwork is too strong for that,
the community too tightly woven

climb this ladder of notes until
I have reached the highest respect for you and

sing
(sing)

we don’t have to sing it nice,
sweet as an angel would

but, oh god, sing it strong
so our allegory knows no falsehood.

© Ella Levick apoeticdaydreamer.com
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