Music plays on.
Soothing and gentle,
Lotus position in the muddy pond of deep scars, traumas, ill-thoughts and self-doubt.
I breathe in and out.
Meditating to the rhythm of music.
Guiding the wandering thoughts to the sounds of the piano playing.
And I see myself, running.
Running towards a dream I gave up long ago.
Not with pain this time, but with the hope
That our stories keep you cozy and warm.
That our conversations are still remembered.
That in our friendship you find respect and gratitude.
That my absence holds no power, over the memories we own.
I live I breathe I move
Yet I don’t stop wondering
What if?
What if the music played differently?
What if the poems were written with more passion?
What if the world sang with us?
What if we understood the depth of our existence for each other?
But then the music stops
And the meditation breaks
Forcing me to accept…
When the time is right!
Black Coffee and Grey Stories 