A book, a stand, a clarinet,
But no-one's there to use them yet.
Left to itself an instrument
Is quite inert, with no intent.
The book is paper, nothing more
Although it may contain a score.
Awareness of music is not in these;
Their purpose isn't symphonies.
Clarinet, book and stand all wait
To meet the player that seals their fate.
More Magic Music here:
See tomorrow's blog for a rather cynical view of joy.