Second Spring
...amidst the fallen leaves...
All the leaves are brown and have fallen to the ground beneath the young ash tree anchored to the hill beside me. While I rake those leaves my thoughts turn to music, some sort of distraction from the cold and my chore. I want rhythm and rhyme, a quick turn of phrase, and a driving, energetic beat to keep me warm until I finish. But my soul desires country music, simple words and string instruments. It wants to be told a good story, and for me to let the leaves lie.
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- The Invitation · November 12‹ Call to Your SoulFold 'em ›