Music In A Ball

The music is like an orchestra of raindrops and sprinkles of moon dust,
that follows the beat of my heart.
The exterior crust is thick and robust. The key is a fragile as a golden egg, yet ii unlocks the heart of this Magical
Musical
Mystery. The core of this old, beautiful, beatinest object, Is not to be touched, neither to be seen, but to be heard.
In my palm the sphere feels frigid and solid but… smooth and precious.
As I slip the key into the opening, I rotate the metallic key; it clicks along, until my hands glide off. Then the music takes me away