Dawn breaks over the glassy blue mirror.
Waves toll onto the white grains where shells hide.
Brush strokes of purple and red cover the expanse above
The sound crashes like the water against the high rocks.
A boy stands alone on this storybook morn
No one knows him, so they choose to mistrust
He stands, eyes closed to them and opens up to the sound
The sea calls forth on the cold, painted morn
Half wishes to stay and the other to run back to the hearth
How can he relay this calling? What gifts can he use?
The wind whistle and low, he turns away from the waters
Hidden away in the black stone, a blue violin waits
With a twang, with a note, with a careful beginning
He lets the air and dawn carry away his sound
To sleeping hearts and eyes, awake and arise
Run to hear the sound, of a violin by the sea