A breath of wind awakens them,
Stirring their silver bodies into motion.
Confused, they fly about
In the balmy air
Reveling in the miracle of their own existence
Though why they are here they know not.
Metal strikes metal.
A symphony of notes sounds in the air,
Some elegant and beautiful,
Others brash and painful.
The wind dies down
And they settle into sleep once more.
Their fleeting display forgotten
As the universe continues on...
We are those wind chimes.
