Is there a soul on earth who has not, in their quietest hours, heard this song*, or something very close to it, somewhere so very deep in their personal depths, and in the soft-held dance of them, and in the gentle tendernesses of the words and of the silences that float before them, and within and all around the history of them, that the memory is present even when, for a little while, the notes themselves have been taken up into their own special-spaces in that same Silence from which they rose, shimmering, to sound?
And will again …
*Spiegel im Spiegel for Cello and Piano – Arvo Pärt
wind in my wheels 🌱 