Music

I can feel the music. It flows through my body, penetrates my mind and rests, vibrating against my soul. It’s always there. I close my eyes and feel the passion. Slowly it ripples to the surface fueling my drive and encircling my dreams.

The music of this life touches a deep secret and tickles a quiet longing. I want to feel that passion in my arms. I miss the voice of the Musician caressing me as I watch him create magic. I loved those moments. I’ll cherish them. But I yearn for something more.

I close my eyes and dare to dream of more. Not of more for me, or more from life—because I already believe in that. I dare to dream the fairy tale of Love.
I need to believe that there is truth to be found, and real passion to share. I need to be more than a pastime, or diversion. I need to be the muse, the reason, and the passion. I need to hear the music and feel the creative spirit inspire me.

I believe in music and art and inspiration. I hear the laughter of innocence and the symphony of experience. I need to believe in Love. I listen…

I can feel it. I’m crying. The melody rises up in my heart, expanding, hoping, and praying. It explodes in my mind causing tears to well again beneath the surface. The rhythm pulses through my limbs. I hear the music and I’m reminded of purpose. I feel alive. The colours are more vibrant. I’m flying. There is energy building, waiting to channel. I feel the beat. My passion is simmering, waiting…