Out of Tune

There is a resonance.
Like the shudder that trickles down your spine,
causing its prickles to extend as far as the tips of your fingers,
making known so very well the pins and needles
burning lightly in the recesses of your skin.
There is a resonance.
Plucked by hands of a deft conviction,
assured beyond reckoning of their own savoir faire,
as an instinctive tribute to the esoteric philharmonic in us all.
We hear it when we look into the sky at night;
Overwhelmed by the enormity of what's beyond our comprehension,
But we know it well.
It has found its way to our ears our entire lives,
and we cannot live without it.
This humming of the stars,
all vibrating with the tonality of pure harmony,
chords to our souls,
they resonate in our hearts.
You can hear the songs of the cosmic lyre,
with strings of divine creation,
playing in sublime euphony,
subtly moving through the inner sanctions of your ethereal substance...

It sings without voice.