Dead

Deep in the woods their children barefoot run
Through leaves and sticks with unencumbered joy.
Light pours in through the trees as summer sun
Engages the soul. Six players employ

Magical, mystical tunes swirling through
The forest. Pounding; beating; swinging; and
Sweet, swaying rhythms, a counterpoint to
The fragrant quiet of this peaceful land.

They play just for themselves, not for the crowds
That fill arenas when they’re out on tour,
They play to trees, to families, and the clouds;
They play unbound, not like what’s come before.

The world has never heard them play like this,
Nor will they. It’s not a concert, it’s bliss.

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