The Horn

Another chapter in my struggle with the ego.

 

The horn plays its

Earthly tones and

Ethereal hue.

Waves upon waves of sound

Bouncing and parading through

Brass chambers.

The horn has many a story to tell

Joy and despair

Anger and affection

Blossoming upwards

Boundless tales of all that can be known

And

All that can be loved.

It pushes

It pulses

Its commanding passion

Through the vine networks of life.

It beckons hearts out of captivity

Guts, bone and blood

Tearing out of insides freely

Becoming something far more lively.

The horn’s arch nemesis is naught

But headphones

Sound trapped inwards

It echoes its rhythm of utility endlessly.

Such self serving glory is impenetrable

No opportunity to get through

During an infinite play list of just one song.

The horn’s only hope is for ears to surrender their defences.

But how?