the music rolls through the windows softly, like the smell of cinnamon buns.
drifting through the hallways, each note finds its way to the next.
the flickering of the candles dance with the tunes.
the guitars strum; each string adding clarity to each word sung.
the drum keeps beat; the heart which pumps rhythm through the veins of the
song.
oh how i love to sing, with this orchestra of one.
one world, one place, one song; one.
- j.m.d.