An Unworded Feeling

The First Artist’s poems, with their innate rhythm and cadence, began to change the way the community spoke. They found themselves echoing the patterns of her verses in their daily conversations, the lyrical quality of her language seeping into their own. It was the artist herself, however, who took the next step. While reciting a poem about the sound of rain, she found that her voice naturally wanted to rise and fall, not just in rhythm, but in pitch. She wasn’t just speaking the words anymore; she was giving them a melody. It was the first time that sound had been shaped not to communicate a specific meaning, but to evoke a pure, unworded feeling. It was the first song.

The community, gathered in the great circular hall, listened in captivated silence. They had never heard anything like it. The song bypassed the logical parts of their minds and spoke directly to their hearts. It was a language of pure emotion, a direct line to the shared well of feeling that connected them all. When the last note faded, there was a collective, indrawn breath, a shared moment of wonder and recognition. Something new and powerful had been born in their midst.