Angel Rain to Wellspring

In my flat there is an opaque skylight in my kitchen that serves as a drum skin for the rain.  Many a night I sit in my living room without the lights on just listening.  There is this strange exchange between the rhythmic rain and the refrigerator hum, a tapping and a drone that regulates my breathing so my body begins relaxing and off goes my mind right into the beyond, the otherworld of tones.

Beethoven once said that "music is the mediator between the spiritual and sensual life" and I believe him.  There is an ear within the heart that hears the tones and a desire within the blood that wants to make love to them and birth their children, on the piano or guitar strings or even by a window in the ceiling that mingles with the heavens.  Melodies and poems and songs and symphonies are born this way and everyone in the universe listens because it is the breath of love we hear that breathes us into union with the beauty of these sounds.  

As I walked out my door today I stopped and stood stock still and listened.  The giant evergreens were bending altogether in the wind and chanting in their basso profundo vox, "the rain is coming soon, the tears of angels in the sky may freeze before they reach the ground."  I closed my eyes and let the coldness kiss my lips till roses bloomed full red upon my cheeks and I was taken by the blasting gale.  It filled my lungs and heart and soul until my own limbs were quivering with its song. I was more alive than I had ever been and knew this was a love I had never known and it was growing in the wind.

Later back inside I gave over to the dark again and the muted drone and drumming in my kitchen.  As I sat with my palms open in a little meditation I recalled this dream I had for many, many years but had long since given up on, of drifting off to sleep to chords of one guitar and one voice humming or softly singing to me in my room.  At once I knew I had to have that dream alive again and breathing right beside me if I were to rest, and there he was.  All I had to do was press a power source and I could hear him, his guitar and singing from his heart and soul, sometimes like the wind and sometimes like the rain but always like himself, the one I've never met before but know way down inside, a healing wellspring.  I fell asleep while listening and through listening was reborn.