Breathtaker

Music was my refuge.
I could crawl into the space
between the notes and
curl my back to loneliness.
- Maya Angelou

A song stopped me in my tracks today.
Fingers hovering over the keyboard,
breath paused in my chest.

At first, it lightly tugged at the edge of my awareness,
like sidewalk shadows dancing in the sun.

But somewhere in the middle, it became urgent.
I had to set down every thought in my head,
of which there were many,
and just
listen.

It had this aching beauty.
It told of pain. Not the volatile kind,
but the kind that rains on your heart for years.

It told how pain can become something else.
That everything you’ve been through matters.
That you made it to the other side,
and maybe,
you’re better for it.

It told a whole story.
And somehow, the story was mine.

Every longing I’ve ever carried in my heart
was wrapped in those notes.

I thought:
how old-fashioned to fall in love with classical music,
recklessly, in the middle of the day.
How romantic to be swept up in its beautiful melodrama.

I like that about myself.
That music can still whisk me away to someplace ethereal.

The world has so many rough edges.
I like that mine are still soft.
It means I’m still getting my breath taken away.
That I still have hope.
My heart’s still wild.

And really,
what more could I ask for?

(credit: Breathtaker - SYML)

Writing Prompt:

When was the last time beauty caught you off guard? Describe the moment, and what it awakened in you.