Wednesday, September 12

It takes practice

It struck me tonight, over a bluegrass song on public radio, that the music I'm attracted to most these days lift like soft prayers. Songs line quiet walls in rooms wide, rippling across the pooled surface of afternoon light. Round and round I try my best to lull myself to peace. Up and down, I understand steady volume is leased. I guess that why they call it a practice - - this inner job of creating peace.