We are Instruments, In Life’s Orchestra

We are different instruments, each with a tune,

While others belong but some sound alone.

Within a group a melody can shine bright,

Each meant for a note and for rhythmic light.

Just because we all have strings,

Doesn’t mean we play the same things.

A guitar, strummed with fingers,

Sounds quite different from a violin’s.

The piano’s keys, so wide and neat,

Are not the same as a harmonium’s beat.

Though both may echo a similar tune,

Their voices echo at a different, a boon.

The drum and tabla, so rich in beat,

Their beats are strong, but not the same heat.

Two hearts that sound with steady power,

But each is guided by its own sound, clever.

A small flute and a trumpet, big,

Both speak through breath, used in a gig,

Yet one is mild, the other strong,

Each with its place, each with its song.

For some, it's just sound that they hear,

For others, the music will be clear.

Many will listen, but few will understand,

The depth of the melody is so grand.

No instrument is too great or too small,

Each has its place, in life’s orchestra, for all.

To play the notes it was meant to play,

In its own way and its own unique sway.

Some learn to play, with skill and grace,

But not all hearts can keep pace.

For those who cannot feel the tune,

The music’s beauty will be lost soon.

So play your notes and play them right,

Your sound is yours, sounding bright.

Only you can bring it alive,

For those who hear and truly thrive.

Never be discouraged, never doubt,

In life’s orchestra, your sound stands out.

Trust in the gods supreme, wise conductor’s,

In charge of how we play, all, their gestures.

By