Silent Music Poem by Barry Middleton

Have I so changed as I grow old?
Where once the music played
within the walls of sunlit space,
I now prefer the shade.

Beneath my silent tears of grief,
among the darkened trees,
I heed a midnight symphony
that whispers on the breeze.

The sound is quietly heard within,
I hearken to the muse,
the rhapsody of poetry,
a lyric interlude.

Beyond the dawning pastel glow,
the orchestra of time,
with harmony and memory,
plays images and rhyme.

And yet I know the music ends,
the silence was foretold,
I sense it still, though you may not,
where shadows are consoled.