Counterpoint

I hesitate, listen-my curiosity piqued
by those strange strains of melody
Unbarring doors, the music sneaked
into my heart, neither friend, nor enemy.

I stood, trembling, as the song softly departed-
Nostalgic, I grasped a violin and let my being flow.
Steadfastly I peered into the dark, unguarded-
Until I heard the deep strains of a beautiful cello.

Desperate to please, afraid to disappoint,
We soared, tones clear and resonating.
After a while, I queried,
“What is a violin's piece without it's counterpoint?”
Came the answer,
“A soul's sigh, lonely and tarried.”