Classic Poem

The mountains stoop to hills and hills to stones
That shrug and wrinkle, hunch their backs and crook
A rhythmic stairway where the water tones
May strike clear intervals and cause a brook
To lead a melody, arpeggios
Might hurry to a precipice and lose
If shorter gaps, cautious rests, softer blows
Forgot to intervene, or art to choose:

Below, the music broadens to a stream
An island interrupts with dissonance,
But contrapuntal fusion saves the theme
And reaches resolution in the sea:
Horizons round the cadence, close the trance
Whose stones and water carve a symphony.