Discovered a
song yesterday. 'Twas more than exquisite. 'Twas more than a thought,
or feeling. 'Twas more than a clump of luckily arranged notes. 'Twas
even more...than a song.
It was an
enigma.
"February the 10th, Sunday.
Noise. Peace."
The tapping of
the old typewriter, the scratch and folding of noise and music. Plug
in headphones. Turn it up. Not a little. A lot.
Now listen.
Close your eyes and breathe. Imagine you are standing outside a
house, watching... the sky is imploding. Imagine, someone else is
inside the house playing the piano, beautifully, almost
intrusively. But not quite. If the piano is being played, who cares
if the sky is imploding? Who cares if the dark clouds are bubbling
and stirring, threatening to break and smother? If the piano is being
played, then one person doesn't mind that the world is ending.
Listen. Do you hear the industrial sounds of trucks and workmen in
the background? They don't care either. The pianist is playing, the
workmen are working and you? ...You-
Are
staring up at the sky, whispering with awe, "Why don't I care that it is
about to break?"
Do you know
why?
Because the
piano is being played. The workmen are working.
Everyone is
calm. So you are too.
They are
keeping calm and carrying on.
So while they
keep calm for you, you stop. And shiver. And wonder.
3 comments:
I needed this today. Thank you.
Oh my goodness...wow.
The reality of our response to such a blessed world we live in can be so sadly overshadowed by our indifference to its beauty. A moment. Just one simple moment, and in the flash of a revelation our mistake is realized. What a reminder. Thank you!
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