02/10/2025
The Tempo
The silent count before the sound,
A breath that holds the world in place,
Then bursts the beat upon the ground,
And sets the rhythm of the race.
It starts in Largo, slow and deep,
Where every note must gently grieve,
The heavy promise that we keep,
The things the heart will not believe.
Then to Andante, walking pace,
A steady journey, plain and clear,
A melody of time and space,
That calms the rising tides of fear.
A sudden shift to Allegro bright,
A flight of hurried, frantic zeal,
A cascade rushing into light,
The turning of a dancing wheel.
And when the music must conclude,
It pulls back to a slow, soft fade,
A moment fully understood,
The quiet ending that was made.
It is the lifeblood of the song,
The speed at which the feeling flows,
The place where nothing is quite wrong,
The way the spirit starts and grows.
