Orchestrate the grand performance of the night.

They dictate which shadow goes where, which cat

slinks in and out between the shaded forms

of the cars; they decide which astronomers

will be awed that evening

will be awed

by the lights

of the sky.



Orchestrates the Movement of the Moods in that strange, exotic

Emotional Plane.

It tells a story

as it weaves our stories

and it flares

and it falls

evoking pure feeling

from our stricken


From our stricken heartbeats

comes a cry.



Orchestrates our actions.

It is the unseen Power of all Powers. Destructive

yet kind; striking

yet subtle

and will forever be our master

until the world's end.

For what world could live

without knowing love?



Oversees the actions

of Stars, Music, Love;

controls the forces

in its mystical manner.

‘Shall they shine tonight?' he wonders.

‘Shall they play

as I play my game?

Shall they make or destroy

the humans - my toys?

Shall people bow to my wishes

or run away in fear?'

And the stars and music

and love

obey his every command.

For they are the great Orchestrators

and we are pieces

on a board.

The End

4 comments about this poem Feed