A simple exchange of vibrations melds, when the writer begins tuning and trying the instrument.
Minds of readers note the feeling.
They fill with anticipation, and in a word connection occurs.
It’s spontaneous. It’s breathtaking.
It’s relationship. It’s exhilaration.
Music breaks through every word ... thought, felt, heard.
It’s a joy. It’s a wonder. It’s marvelous intellection, individualization. It’s introspection. It’s ideation. The input, the inquiry . . . the invitation to take a peek into imagination is delicious, delightful, enchanting, alluring.
The dancing that happens inside the words reminds us that love can be sparked and stirred with a turn of phrase or a well-chosen word.
Who hasn’t fallen in love with a word?
What sort of heart separates so completely?
Yet the writer is playing simplicity, crafting communication,
displaying a message meaningful and packed with years of praying, talking, translating,
and deep, deep thinking.
The colors, the colors, the music you hear. The writer only put there as a gift
as a favor, a flavor of gratitude
that you might take the moment to hear,
really hear what the words are saying.
It’s the prodigal writer and the prodigal audience. It’s a circle of music, a fugue on a flat white computer screen. Like a circle, the writer will always be back again.
It’s why God made writers and why he put music inside the words.
It’s departure. It’s homecoming. It’s a violin. It’s a song of life. It’s a song of being.
It’s love in black and white, and colors never seen.
−me strauss Letting me be