Of all the puzzles I design,

This last one is a simple sign,

An answer you can soon define,

As you avoid the world below,

And to a higher viewpoint go.

There, leaders of a thoughtful age,

Whose wisdom still feels big onstage,

Look down on us, a middling sage,

While shifting meals are weekly offered,

A changing menu has been proffered.

The silent keys of black and white,

Await a song, however light,

To fill the room with pure delight;

So let a new and hopeful tune

Reach for the sky and for the moon.

Your prize is waiting there,

Upon the thin and silent air,

A song for you to share.

Culminating CAntIcle