Skipping through their music

When the music plays, they weave it from the threads that they have yarned between them. Back and forth. The one who loves breathes them through their songs. His joy in the drift of time.

They skip upwards on each others melody. And when he hears it they rejoice within his eyes. The clapping and the pulse.

Then a silent note falling to the ground, through ground, into the depth that has no final echo. And while they fall the walls of their music start speaking and they rise on a pillar of light that burns into the night.

Don’t hold still, don’t hold back, you are hear to roll with our waves.

And a wrinkled brow throws ripples through those hearts that shiver and answer back lovingly. And the heart that beats the rhythm knows its ground from the stir of the beat. The pulse of re-birth. Soaring on new wings.

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  1. noah
    Posted July 2, 2014 at 8:01 am | Permalink

    I’ve no idea how I found this…

    Your poems are the kindest of mirrors, full of recognition.

    Your voice reminds me of my own beauty, the beauty of the longing to know and be known, the profound embrace of the silence that is love. Thank you. With your vulnerability you touch what is close and brave and vast. I’m glad you are out there, somewhere, in this immeasurable and intimate world.

    With love,


    • Hanna
      Posted July 2, 2014 at 8:15 am | Permalink

      Thank you Noah – I am also happy you have found me, since I rarely have visitors on my blog. And it is good to know that someone is glad that I am here. :)

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