The First Song

From the inborn faith in the everlasting stars,
A voice is conjured from the soul of guitars,
The first lonely howl trying to sync to heartbeat’s time,
A tangle of wonder and awe seeking its patron in rhyme.
The first song was all being trying to fix its place in time,
We still try to cover that first song.
The carnival and pageant of season and sky,
The inevitable curse of the why oh why,
She is like a planet starved in her own ecstasy, The voice of every hope every
dream every world myth that could ever be.
The first song was all being trying to touch what it did feel,
We still try to feel that first song.
The suffering soul divined and released in melody,
And this clock placed sentiment echoes infinity, The move and the shake before
rhythm knew its name,
A universal audience before the diva knew her fame.
The first song was sung for the rapture of the singing,
If we could only know the words to the first song, If we could only tune our
voice to the first song,
If we could only sing the soul of the first song.