Monday, January 17, 2011

Bridge

It's MLK day today and I'm thinking about the sound of his voice. All my life I've heard it and it was always more than words, more than vision, something like milk for the soul, a time-release launch that keeps blooming into expanses of courage, nourishing atrophied and distracted hearts satiated by lies and starved of the ultrasound of compassion that trembles in his voice. It is a sound to fall asleep to and wake up in a promised land.

8 comments:

Old First said...

His voice always moves me. Yes, just his voice.

Old First said...

I mean, his voice alone is enough to move me, even though everything else about him is precious to me too.

amarilla said...

Really, I plan to fall asleep playing the sound of his voice in my head. My mind is like a jukebox, is yours?

hare said...

Do you or your children play the violin?

Old First said...

My mind is a jukebox, yes. Sometimes I choose the tunes, sometimes someone else does. Can't help it.

amarilla said...

Hare, i'm learning the fiddle. None of my kids have shown much interest (yet.) Your son plays?

hare said...

That is good! I love sound of violin.

He was bring the violin to France. told me playing some times.
We have his violins 5 or 6, because he began his 2 years old.
Small one is like a toy.^^

M said...

Beautiful description of a beautiful voice.