I’ve been pondering why, song - a temporal artefact of the human voice - is the most profoundly transcendent of art’s many instruments. Why a singing voice has incommensurable capacity to move us.

Consider that a song’s profound beauty arises from the living core of a worm’s anticipated feast. 

 

A sound lofting heavenward on human breath. Deathless testament of beauty and defiant rebuke of creation’s terrible license to serially flourish at our expense.