Life lived slow mid thorns of fear, wounded weighted low,
Memories lost of journeys free before this path, this NO.
Gone the days of wonder’s laugh choked out by touching hurt.
Yet undeceived can eyes still see such beauty bright unthroned?
Yes! seize and strain the light until with hope you can release
the tears flow down like rain
and grow the heart beyond this place.
For there the quiet secret pain remains embraced and thus refined,
breathed within a lover’s kiss, a holy space divine.
What I hear is an option. Even in choosing silence- I can hear. I listen….
Sound is a space of being
Sound is a link to a moment in time.
It is tangible, functional, inviting.
As I separate the tones and attend to one over the other I learn and feel and know a new old something.
As the layers stream into my consciousness
I am reminded
I am comforted
I am loved.
Living daily on the edge, the point of change and even chaos requires an ability to perceive and interpret beginnings. Can you see something new happening from something old? Can you hear the key change and move to an altered beat?
To do this every day is not sustainable without love and hope. Love creates the net that will catch you when you fall from the pinnacle and hope promises to set you back upright and in a new place.
So on the head of a pin angels dance, moving to the beat of a love song — hopeful you will see them orchestrating your part in new spaces of beginning.