In every blues is the melody of the crying man,
touching the sacred sphere of promised land, because he can.
Those harmonies are the answer from the divine will,
feelings in which union of motions arise from the still.
Familiarity to the sense of deepening rhythm,
duality in unity become the catalyst in great souls bosom.
Stirred by the chords coming from heart,
gently tuning in the vault of this all language art.
Motions become the sound with its meaning,
melodious storms become the breathing.
Utter divine and ardent ecstasy without fear,
chemistry and soul to hear.
Sounds bridging the journey among themselves,
echoing the extended harmony from where it delves.
Where the souls can sail the ocean waves of bliss,
facing those vile base and sense, not a note to miss.
Natures orchestra in virtues conduct,
revealing the intimate rhythm by love construct.