I've always noticed the music I have on has a profound effect on the feeling of my writing. I selected a song from my collection, put it on repeat, used it's title as my title, and wrote a short piece about it. What I came up with is far from my best, but it's interesting because of the process. You guys should totally try it sometime.
Anyway, load up this page and listen while you read.
Prelude for Time Feelers
Slowly, the music begins, and I take your arm in mine.
The light dance of your brother's hands on the black and white minstrels creates a swelling symphony not just of sound, but of feelings, and of visions. As we glide like two stars across the dimly-lit night sky, I look at your face and am ever more curious as to why I was chosen to be so lucky, so strangely blessed to be the object of your affections.
We met by chance, a warm summer's stumble-gone-windfall, I the awkward and unsuspecting leader of this particular dance, and you, the graceful marionette of fate, there to help me to my feet and assist in gathering my belongings. As I gazed into your eyes for that first time, it was like I could see for miles, a wide ocean of kindness and charisma, and somewhere, an island. An island on which you yourself sat. Waiting for someone. Waiting for anyone. Waiting for someone who would understand, who would listen, someone to hold and be held.
And the music fades, as do you.
Looking back, my times with you were the happiest of my life. Though we were married for only four years of my sixty-five, I feel fuller and better now then I had as a spry teenager. Your laughter lit my darkest hours, like the candles I light for you every night. Your smile was the lone comfort in this world that has long since past me by and forgotten I ever was.
I only wish that I could have loved you more, that I could have told you more often, that I could have made you better understand how you completed me. As you lay, as though in slumber, in your blue satin dress upon the white comfort of a casket, I could shed no tears, for we lived every day like our last, we knew one of them truly would be it.
I miss you.
Anyway, load up this page and listen while you read.
Prelude for Time Feelers
Slowly, the music begins, and I take your arm in mine.
The light dance of your brother's hands on the black and white minstrels creates a swelling symphony not just of sound, but of feelings, and of visions. As we glide like two stars across the dimly-lit night sky, I look at your face and am ever more curious as to why I was chosen to be so lucky, so strangely blessed to be the object of your affections.
We met by chance, a warm summer's stumble-gone-windfall, I the awkward and unsuspecting leader of this particular dance, and you, the graceful marionette of fate, there to help me to my feet and assist in gathering my belongings. As I gazed into your eyes for that first time, it was like I could see for miles, a wide ocean of kindness and charisma, and somewhere, an island. An island on which you yourself sat. Waiting for someone. Waiting for anyone. Waiting for someone who would understand, who would listen, someone to hold and be held.
And the music fades, as do you.
Looking back, my times with you were the happiest of my life. Though we were married for only four years of my sixty-five, I feel fuller and better now then I had as a spry teenager. Your laughter lit my darkest hours, like the candles I light for you every night. Your smile was the lone comfort in this world that has long since past me by and forgotten I ever was.
I only wish that I could have loved you more, that I could have told you more often, that I could have made you better understand how you completed me. As you lay, as though in slumber, in your blue satin dress upon the white comfort of a casket, I could shed no tears, for we lived every day like our last, we knew one of them truly would be it.
I miss you.
Comment