Some days the weave is thick with music. The soundtrack of life that threads in the background, stitches moments, solidifies patterns that slowly emerge.
This morning it’s the notes that touch me most. The sounds from the throats of humans. The plucking of strings on a guitar. The harmonies of instruments in rhythm.
These messages, someone’s heartfelt expression. They reach across airwaves to find their place in my ear drums. To beat time with my own heart. Where we are connected. Feeling. Seeking. Reporting what we find.
Driving past a woman walking alone on a country road. Her face smiling, the wind blowing her blouse alongside the bananas.
Greeting eyes with a long-time, handsome friend.
Holding my son in my lap as he told me about his day.
Being handed a home-grown rose in full bloom. Inhaling the scent – and as always – being transported to Marionette road, where my great-grandmother’s roses lined the driveway and filled my seven year old head with floral love.
Sparks of light. Small calls to live and feel deeply. To let the moments permeate and pass.
6:59am. Gonna let breakfast preparations permeate my being now.