Wednesday, January 30, 2013

fragrance & fertility of euphoristia

Today, I woke up in Euphoria.
The world was excited to see me this morning; and the feeling was mutual.
As I ran in the bright morning air, the wind and sunshine carried a potpourri of scents and spices towards my nose.
The pungent scent of rich Indian food.
The spice of street vendors.
The sweet smell of waffles and powdered sugar.
The water.
The perfume of the woman walking upwind of me.

As we passed over the bridge, which spanned the sparkling water with an elegant grace, we walked in silence, just soaking in the wind, which whipped the sunshine through the atmosphere.
The sky felt lighter and brighter.


My feet decided to walk into a church and I was forced to follow.
I walked into a cloud of music.
Whatever it was the violins were making, I wanted to be that, that beauty, that reverberation of airwaves that makes the atmosphere surge with melancholy and desire, I wanted to be a part of that.
That magic movement of sound that made me yearn to turn into a beam of light. 
The cello played upon horsehairs and my heartstring. 
I wanted to close my eyes, to cut off al senses but my hearing; to let nothing but that music fill me up. But even when I closed my eyes, I felt the music begging me to open them. 
Prodding me to open my eyes as wide as I could, to soak in the entire world.
When you're filled to the brim with beauty, it usually spills out in two ways:
through your mouth, in the form of a smile, 
through your eyes, in the form of tears.

I saw an elderly man remove him glasses and wipe his eyes.
He sighed
And I sighed.
Both of us sat, awash and afloat in a sea of sound.
I think my heart was broken, but it has never sounded so sweet.

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