Why couldn’t I be an effortless suite of music? ……..
Just wander away from reality, my eyes closed, to a place so peaceful and far away …
Maybe I could be an ever flowing river, or maybe, ruthless ocean winds. No care, no worry. Mindlessly carving my way and legacy, through time.
Maybe I could just float away in the melodies of a tune. Rises and falls of harmony which evokes all sorts of hidden emotions. A tune so careless … unknowingly affecting others. No one to affect me, but those who play my majesty.
So much more than I am now … I could be, would be, will be … a tune … a melody … a harmony … a river … winds … passionate, unreckonable, boundless, unconquerable, undefeatable, inexhaustible and unfathomable! … the epitome of majesty and true perfection! Far away … far far away from anything less than myself.
I am a tune that makes you feel insignificant, irrelevant, meaningless, and negligible.
I am a harmony, a melody, which rises and falls at its own will, decision, power, and resolution.
I am the indestructible winds that travel where and as they please, desire, thirst, and yearn.
I am the river who carves its way through nature and forms, designs, fashion s, and conforms the earth!
I am lost … I am gone … I am beautiful … I am everything I could never be ……
This music inspired my writing.
“I’ll walk home, it’s nearby”.
She started to get up and walk away, but he just sat on his seat and watched her. She stood up with a certain grace that he’d never seen in a woman before. While standing at the corner of the table where they shared dinner, she looked outside with a thoughtful gleam in her eyes. Then she turned to look deep into his eyes and in a soft voice said “goodbye”, with a gentle smile.
She walked away while sliding her fingers across the edge of the old wooden table, as if she learned the history of that table just from touching it. Within seconds, his back was facing hers, and before he looked back, she was gone.
For some time he stayed still in his seat, trying to recover from her exit. Thoughts of her flooded his mind like a rushing waterfall. He’d had no closure; she left him there with no way of contacting her again, no way of knowing when he’d see her again or how he’d see her again.
The way she had walked out and said goodbye had left him stunned, he didn’t even get the opportunity to respond. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to this woman who had done some sort of magic on him. He hoped that her goodbye meant that they would meet again soon and maybe under different circumstances; maybe, when they were in better phases of their lives; maybe, when there was nothing to haunt them.
Finally, he got up and went out to his car. It was drizzling. He could imagine her walking in the dark, under the rain, all alone. It was a picturesque image … her long, dark, beautiful hair drenched and pulled back while raindrops flowed down her warm skin as he envied each one that touched her. Raindrops landed on her soft purple lips and she licked them off, admiring the dark sky. More than likely, she enjoyed the rain, cool breeze, and dark sky more than the time they had spent together that evening. As each second passed, he began to grudge against the rain. And she … well, she was probably personifying the rain with her feelings and how wonderful it felt as each drop caressed her skin, not knowing how it made his blood boil.