Breeze whistles like the whispers of the shore.
Every sea shell carries with it tales of the ocean.
An aakar chases notes, temperamental as leaves catching the lure of an ebbing breeze. Violin Strings sail on notes like the relenting drift of sea gulls. Sighs of an abandoned flute soothes, like clouds that laminate the sky. Fingers strike at the thigh. Bells ring at her feet. She writes poems to an angry god.
Sent from mobile device
Show me how you offer to your people the stories and the songs you want our children’s children to remember, and I will show you how I struggle, not to change the world, but to love it.