Mesh of color

Music is never proportional
It comes from the soul,
Like a golden saxophone
With keys that glimmer in the light.

Like a plump cherry on top of ice cream
Or like a red brick in the city walls.
A cow saying “Moo” while grazing.
It’s the bright blue sky in spring.

When the pitter-patter of rain
Comes down and hits the window pane
The sky is gray and no bird dares to sing
For they are waiting for the morning sun.

And the sun, in its luminous yellows,
Rises to the occasion to light the land.
The green grass sweeps in the wind
And the aqua seas laughing.

A rainbow of color bursting with life
As the day ends with a bang.
Everyday we listen to it:
Music is a mesh of all the colors of the world.