Tune, rare hope to each of life’s swift chords,
Played softly in wind,
Played surely in stars.
Lift, life chord, the staying thought:
The discordant sound of lives
In time against the movement’s theme.
Surround the light humiliation of despair-borne
Love returned unlisted, unknown.
Surround the players lost in music not their own.
Overshadow, orchestra. In keep step, bring
Up the notes and pulse of straight-lined songs.
Deliver now the chords of peace, alone:
Played well,
Heard long.
SmoothStones 
I was able to appreciate this more, having read the previous post. Thanks
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