A CELLO CAN'T BE BURNED

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Philosophical poem

A CELLO CAN'T BE BURNED
A cello can't be burned.
Its whisper may burst 
like a cloud whose eyes pour rain.
Dance the cloud as life 
may gain nothing to stay.
Dance the cello as love is a coming day.
Any age without love goes to its end.
Do dance to wake up again.
This cloud's rain is nothing
for sleeping shells.
A cello can't be burned.
A page ripped from life 
Can be cello's nerve.
Drop your breath in the cello's chest.
Do dance love on life's slippery steps.
Life without love is a ripped page.
Though a cello is made of wood it can't be burned.

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