a man and his music...

I wrote this today for a friend that had a horrible night last night.

In a room that's empty
Save for the darkness and a silence so loud it's deafening
A man sits, clinging desperately to his guitar
As though he's drowning and it is his only lifeline.
He's trying to find resolution in his heart
By searching through all the words;
He neglects the empty ones and
Chooses carefully only the words that fill him with meaning.
He sends them up into the night -
Soulful and sexy and aching,
Until he laid his words upon it like a blanket
With the music he was making,
Leaving it now only soulful and sexy.
The salve in his voice, smooth and breathy and warm like gauze,
Has soothed the ache that hung in the air
And replaced it with comfort and familiarity,
His words, rich from experience,
Wrap around the night
And lend it some ambience.
Soon his music swallows the darkness and
The room is bathed in mystical light.
It's a light that emanates from somewhere else,
Some place that's far beyond himself.
It's a place where hurting and healing collide,
Where brokenness and holiness reside,
Where truth and beauty are born from inside,
Where pain and hope abide,
Where love and danger coalesce,
And humanity and the divine coexist.
It's a place where all of these in his own life are illuminated;
And it's there that he realizes
That though he is not perfect,
He is perfectly flawed
And in response, Heaven and all its angels applaud.
This is the source of light that casts its glow
On a room that was empty
Save for the darkness falling and the silence calling,
Where a man clung to his guitar
Trying to save his own life from trivial things
And while doing so,
It was my life that he played on six strings.