Grew Older
Hearts are not something to be taken lightly.
According to life's essential need.
Anything else would be considered making noise.
Hearts are like mid sized drums. fragile in the way that they beat.
Lingering throbs, echoing intensely.
Seldomly, A snare dropped off key, played softly.
Filling the space of the smallest thought.
Realizing that mistakes can and will occur.
Something not to be taken lightly.
The fragile pop of the smallest thread.
Over thought in motion.
Continuing to move about.
Balanced by the placement of steady hands.
Regaining composure.
A new note soulfully played in cadence with another.
Realizing that there is no such thing as control when it comes to matters of the heart.
A constant rhythm that goes misunderstood until it meets a set of ears to willingly listen.
A Definitive purpose. Finding bliss in filling the gaps of another note.
Without embarrassment, without shame to be themselves.
Tirelessly in unison.
The throb of steady hearts.
This was life being lived to the fullest.
This was the first time I truly heard music at it's finest.
It was never the steady pace of the drum,
But everything that took place around the pop.
Only to amplify as I grew older
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