I listen to the blues as though I’m
in church. Something sacred about
broken hearts seeking what
has been lost, the promise of music
to guide the soul like Virgil guiding
Dante. I am not musically inclined
but I’m inclined to hear the hybrid
harmony of the human and divine,
each knowing the despair of the other,
the unspoken promise grief holds.
The fact that music can be made
from stories of our broken hearts.
The fact the river of love never runs dry.
-Byron Hoot
No comments:
Post a Comment