Speaking my language
It was a minor key kind of day,
Sharps and flats dictating her mood.
Melancholy, introspective - lost in a world of her own.
Each plaintive note evoking pictures and emotions not possible to voice.
The music whispered to her, teased her, danced with her – stirred her soul.
Eyes closed, her body swayed.
Every movement a conduit for the sound.
No greater intimacy.
With each breath the music filled her heart,
and formed words she would not speak but wished she could.