“There is nothing new under the sun,” posits the author(s) of Hebrew wisdom lit. There are days when I accept this as truth, as readily as I welcome a rising sun. And there are other days when I must “kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight” in order to simply hold it in tension.
In response, I borrow an axiom, reworked for my own purposes, that goes something like this: To notice and cherish a person is to learn the song that is in their heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten. (Arne Gorberg)
I like that.
And yet life also begs a different question, “but what of those times more frequent, when rather than having forgotten, they are not present to hear it?”
Sing.
Just sing.
Let each note, each unsyncopated, ill-timed, off-pitch note rise and fall like the tides.
Lift your voice.
Dance like no one is listening.
Move in time with the unbridled quiet.
For as the sheet music unfolds in the wide awe and wisdom of the distance between me and my noticing, there is a silent song being raised.
On earth, as it is in the heavens.
Paul Edward Ralph 06 MAY 2021
Comments