Lullaby for Listening with Eyes Closed

If I could write music, I’d set to life the sounds I hear playing in my head. I’d put in the air the sounds of all the feelings that fall unexpressed between the words and colors, the feelings that need music to be truly felt.

Tonight what I would write would be a lullaby, a special one. I’d write a song of friendship for everyone I love who’s never been sung to sleep. It’s the kind of song we’d hear only after our eyes were closed. The music soft and slow, dreamy and starry-eyed would have lots of major chords. I’d put tinkly sounds faint inside to make us see stars on the insides of our eyes. The music would wrap around us like a magic carpet and lift us up like air.

We’d sail in four/four time moving with electronic keyboards and guitars playing us along. While woodwinds faintly hummed our fondest thoughts so that we could sing along, smiling with our eyes still shut.

A bass guitar would keep us grounded like so many favorite trees, to let us know we always had a way back to our home. The strings would guide us beyond the leaves onto a distant breeze, so we could see that we don’t need to worry about all that worldly stuff. Soft voices would say that it was time to rest while the world goes round on its own.

Again those tinkly sounds would make us think of stars, and this time we would start to see them again only brighter. We would see a place where stars were diamonds on the inside of our eyes. We’d watch them in amazement before low sounds pulled our hearts back to our home.

Deep contra bass horns calling like voices in foggy, faraway hills, would play the song of all the lullabies sung for centuries, and we’d feel the love tied to every one. We’d touch the silver thread that joins every person to every star, and a whole rainbow would start playing. Near the end, we would hear angel voices say, “We’re right here for you.”

That’s the last sound we’d remember, before we fell asleep.

If only I could write music . . .

I’d write a lullaby for listening with our eyes closed

for everyone I love who's never been sung to sleep.

—me strauss Letting me be