An old blind man sways as if in a trance as he plays the strings of the harpsichord. His skeletal frame like a thin pine tree in hurricane winds. Strands of thin grey hair swing from side to side; his frail hands show large discolored veins and expose protruding bone against thin skin. The iris and pupils of his eyes are cloudy white. His eyes transfixed. He plays the song of a story only he knows. The strings of the harpsichord haunt his memories and recall the days of sorrow and a love he once knew. He cannot cry because there are no tears left to be given. His torment are his memories; still he plays beautifully. The ghostly eyes of the dark crow watch from the shadows.
Tag: Music
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With tears in her eyes she dusts off her old satin ballet slippers.
In darkness she gracefully dances once more;
Pointed toes grace finely polished wooden floors.She is not broken;
She is not too old;
She is not cast away.If she had danced in front of an audience they would have cried.
She composes a wonderful poem with her movements;
Her ballad is beautiful; my god, it’s beautiful.In silence, only her movements can be heard;
She dances to the song in her heart.
Fluid movement; She flows … she is a river.The twinkling stars give thunderous applause.
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I’m relying on Coltrane to get me through the day. A wonderful rest of the day to you all.
John Coltrane – Giant Steps
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Listening to one of my favorites from Sade, I contemplated the fear, the character in the song experienced as she waited for her matador to come home, while expecting bad news.
Sade asks a very poignant question in her lyrics – “Can she tame the beast that is her fear?” I thought about this and realized how profound a question it is in our everyday lives. Fear is indeed a beast, and it is destructive and unforgiving. Can we temper our fear even in the face of adversity?
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For those of us who face seemingly insurmountable odds in our lives. For those of us who have struggled, and given with nothing left to give. For those those of us who are misunderstood due to our internal anguish and silent turmoil. For those of us who sit in silent darkness late into the night and release tears without being seen. For those of us who have loved, and lost love.
Against All Odds – Phil Collins (1984)
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I’m so in love with you and I could never forget the first time we . . .
laid eyes on each other; it was then that I had visions of kissing you . . .
I went out on a limb and told you my true feelings for you, and it was then we found love in each other’s arms . . .
Intimate Compositions 