"Let me pick up where I left off."
A second passed, and the air was filled
with powerful notes from the bottom of his heart
and the low end of his violin.

The intensity could stab a sudden tear
from the hardest man,
and as it built up,
goosebumps came,
followed by a thunderous chord
from the viola,
deepening the tone.

It was almost too much to bear.

Over the top, a frantic dulcimer began
hopscotching between the notes,
creating a chilling soundscape
on which, my mind began skating,
painting dramatic scenes
of tense chases and unearthly storms.

And then, like and earthquake,
a harrowing elongated bow
took to torturing the deepest voice in the room.
When the tidal wave was about to crash down,
laying waste to all in its path,
the eruption turned suddenly,
the pace picked up,
the winds changed,
lead now by a strong male harmony
and the truth was exposed,
raw and unapologetic,
as the room returned
from the edge of the cliff
and locked into a solid pulse
that reached past time itself
and united all the bodies in motion.

Music went on into the night
and when I came around the next morning,
it was like a dream from a hundred years past.

How those strings weave their spell.