Our Song

Our song is the sound of rain on a sidewalk.
Our song is the rustling of the trees on a winter’s night.
Our song is the taste of coffee in the morning.
Our song is the feeling of falling, the height of which is unimaginable, the direction from which unknowable, the destination intangible.
Our song is the rust on guitar strings, the calluses on my fingertips, the words I write in silence.
Our song is the smell of an old book filled with the thoughts of a life gone by.
Our song is the touch of a hand, the sight of a smile, the joy of laughter.
Our song is a rushing heart, a deep breath, a happy sigh.
Our song is the ocean tide, the moon’s reflection, the starry night.
Our song is the crackling of a bon fire, the embers in the pyre, the smoke that escapes the flame.
Our song is freedom in a room bound by chains.

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