quiet passion

Music changes my life. After several years of contemplation, I finally ordered five CDs by a singer/songwriter named Cindy Kallet, a musician with whose music I have been in love since I was fifteen. Her music is slowly cracking me open, a seedpod in the dry richness of new spring earth. It is hope and grief and joy and regret in one beatiful bouquet. I miss my flute now, I miss singing when I neglect it, I miss hours at the piano, fingers wandering across the keyboard in search of something too deep to say. The guitar over in the corner beckons, a quiet crooking of the finger that says, come. come here and dance with me, let me open you, let me sing with you, cradle me.