The sound of love
The sound of love is the perfect rhythm of hearts beating too fast; they shame a talking drum. The slow stares and gently trails your eyes leave like the gentle tap on brass, subtle, so it doesn’t explode. Yes, the sound of love must be Melodies formed from a beating heart, starry eyes, and some words that aren’t spoken.
How could anyone deny that the heart isn’t capable of greater than blood pumps in seconds? Oh no, it powers every nerve that keeps the desires and yearnings alive for as long as needed; it’s the house to all emotions felt and still to come, the reason the good book said to guard it jealously.
The sound of love is the dance to completely surrender what we have little to no more significant control over, the feeling of succumbing under a gaze and, in sterner definitions, a complete, truthful oath to commit and entrust what is now and is to come; it’s where the angels seal the lines. Whoever doubted the power of love?!
Nobody knows what depths you’d journey to keep safe the strings that line your special guitar, a silent prayer that all remains forever, these sounds that the ears might never hear. Many have died, and many would leave for the very reasons these sounds exist.
Whatever genre you decide on, the important thing is to find someone who dances to the same tune as you, understanding every chorus, and lyric and reciting the lines that flesh never revealed to them. Choose that person who closed their eyes on a good Sunday and joined in as the angels sang and bear witnesses to lasting vows and promises.
Don’t fall for the flimsy vocals of one who has no great love for music or the wicked who mimics sounds and notes only to cause chaos. Sing, yes, sing loudly and honestly, and one day you’d lead a choir of two who align tune for note.
Good choices only, the sound of love is inevitable, and we all would open the floors at some point; for me, I pray it’s golden beats and gentle keynotes, so help us all.
The sound of love, the purpose many have found, are finding and would find.