I used to grieve for people,
who didn’t listen to the words of songs.
They’d play it loud and in 3 minutes,
the beautiful meanings just passed them right along.
I’d get flustered saying,
“you just don’t get it,” as I hit rewind.
And often, they still wouldn’t hear the words,
the second or third time.
They’d skip halfway through it,
they remembered not even the name.
They missed the poetry at the ready for hearing,
because to them it sounded the same.
And I’ve started to notice,
that I’m a lot like my friends.
When it comes to seasons of my life,
I fight for certain songs to end.
I don’t care how beautiful,
the lyrics are to the song.
I don’t care about the metaphors,
when the melodies sound wrong.
So I’m fighting to remember to try,
to listen to the words of each song of my days.
To write them in pretty calligraphy,
so I remember the meaning even of the pain.
I’m trying to remember,
that lyrics of sad songs are beautiful too.
And that sometimes it’s the longest songs,
that move something deep inside you.
So here’s to listening to the words,
and finding beauty in it all.
The music of our lives,
whether it’s summer, spring, winter, or fall.
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