Shadows Of Melody Poem by Emerson Roberts

Such brief miracles
Alone watching the songs unfold
The passions displayed
"These are but shadows of the things that have been, "
Said the Ghost. "They have no consciousness of us."

They mime their mute instruments
While the prerecorded track is broadcast live
And the studio audience swoons
All captured on tape
Then distilled to a digital spirit
Sluicing through the ether
On demand

And every single soul on the screen
Is dead or very old now
But look at them
Before I was born
Bursting with talent
Talent that now
Reignites.

Heaven will be like this.
A looking in saturation and re-collection of talents.
No idea what's to come, what form, what eyes.