I sat down tonight to write a post musing about the very first song in the history of mankind. It was meant to be a contribution to answer the question "what is music and where did it come from?"The following poem emerged. I trust you'll excuse the juvenile rhyming."Sing a song,"The master said,"Before you don'tAnd wind up dead.Sing a songAnd you will seeHow happy,Sad,And young you be.""What shall I sing?"The singer asked,"For up till nowNot one has taskedTo write that thing you callA song.If none exists,I'll right that wrong."And so to paper pen was put,And rhyme appeared, Of love And joyAnd dreams of whatWas yet to come. "Tis half a song at best,"He mused.And then a breeze his mind did soothe,And from his lips emerged a tune.It was the first such soundAnd soonWas heard by all who ventured nearThe singer.And from that first songCame the rest.And through the timeEach one was best,From singers who caressed the breeze And gifted us,Our souls to please.