Quiet Heart…

Quiet heart. Perhaps there is nothing better.

Even in family, even in community. The quiet heart is at home, at rest, leaning with trust. No matter circumstances. Trust becomes a song. A melody, a harmony, a rhythm. Sometimes simply lilting, sometimes agonizingly dissonant… resolving. Yet always music. Moving, still… … Surging, pulling out to sea… Waiting, circling, playing… … Building… Pounding, even crashing…

The conductor stands in place. Directing with two hands and a baton. Pulse – the whole orchestra follows black dots with lines, and a silent visible throb in one tuxedo.

Music has a life of its own as does the song of trust. Rising above instruments.

We sit, or dance. We soar-listen. We travel to places we’ve never been inside ourselves, and inside the minds of transported composers.

Math, motion, imagination converge. Sometimes even a creative’s “madness.” The unseen appears. The spirit finds meaning.

All is taken in by the quiet heart. Quiet heart.