Sometimes there’s not enough words
to explain the day. We attempt to create a shape,
a revelation between spaces, where a line becomes
more than a crease in time. It’s a half note matured
and filled with air. The sound bursts into a place
not yet traveled. The movement resembles a
crusade, a new path apart from the previous chains
of freedom. Everything falls into place like a deck
of 52 cards.
The quiet talk of a cloudless day reveals the wonder
of listening.
It’s the pain that pushes us to a new place.
Roger Singer 