The Aria of Petals

An orchard of orchestras

A garden full of cielos and strings

A place of uncertain beauty

Filled the eyes of the gazing audience.

Nothing but notes filled the bushes

And the frets made the fences

Was it the moon who played the sonata?

Everything was lit from there on.

The serenade of a hundred winds

A concert of a thousand leaves

Each song a representation of the truth

Each instrument a paint of those truth.

Was it the octave you were searching for?

Or was it the aria of the lost love?

The Ballad of a million flowers

Tells the story of the song you search.

The chord of the gentle piano

Stroke the hearts of the listeners

Made them cry like a requiem

And thus the Garden of Orchestras began.