Fingers beating strings

Brows laced with sweat

Eyes filled with magic

Repeating and repeating every single set

Brown oak, cool as polished stone

Cheeks caressing its wooden wonder

Rhythm slows to a gentle tune

The air turning soft and smooth

Soothing notes tenderly play

The strings silently sway

A single tear falls from the eye

Speaking more than words

Calm and light is the feel

A fantasy to true ears

A grip of heaven

Strength for those who fear

The dark oak stills

Strings ceasing to flow

Fingers freeze, but sound lives on

For the miraculous, celestial cello