You are the music of golden leaves falling softly upon the earth on an autumn morning.
So subtle and slight. Softer than the gentle breeze. So pure and unspotted. Calmer than the empty sky.
It passes without notice, as though sound itself were sleeping, dreaming of being heard.
But there is one who knows your subtle melody. And for this knowing audience there is no other music.
ALB 9-14-02
