A gentle tune tickles the ear
As it flits across the room,
With notes so crystal clear,
A secreted flume.

Your head turns each way
But you cannot find the source,
For though it's bright as day
It's a subtle force.

It sits atop your head,
A gilded crown of joy,
Or a cape drapes instead
Across your shoulders coy;

It flows down your arm
Like a silken sleeve,
Or it deflects harm
As a sturdy greave;

It sits in firm hand
Like a sword of truth,
Or slips like clever sand
As our fine youth.

You can't see where it begins
Or dissect it with a knife,
But the answer lies within:
It's the tune of Life.