We Never Hear the Song
The music swelled unbroken, I stood and listened, awed
Had the earth just spoken or was that the breath of God
Florida’s soulful prayer full of mystique and emotion
From the air, from the ground, from the gulf to the ocean

I heard the salty waves beat to the ocean’s lullaby
Sand squeaked beneath my feet, a seagull laughed its Hi
A turtles plop, the rain’s drip drop, a manatee’s high squeal
A songbird makes a whistle stop, its every note surreal

This unquiet earth makes songs that shouldn’t cease
Strains of music giving birth to a mighty masterpiece
We listen to the music but we don’t sing along
We listen to the music but we never hear the song

A lonely panther’s cry disturbed a wood-stork conversation
Startled and perturbed they chatted their frustration
It didn’t seem to matter to a nearby resting grackle
Who joined a chipmunk’s chatter with it’s own throaty cackle

Hollow trees turned into drums, the wood thrush played a flute
Humming birds joined in with hums, an owl just gave a hoot
Sounds sometimes hilarious or full of gloom and woe
Like throb of Stradivarius or ring of old banjo


They might sound uninspiring – each musician all alone
But united and untiring with their harmonies full-blown
All day and all night long from this unpretentious band
Comes the hopeful, haunting song of a last frontier’s last stand

Will we find it then lose it, though it echoes on and on
Will we change it, confuse it, get the melody all wrong
Will we never quite belong – will we dream of what has been
Or will we listen for the song we might never hear again