There are songs; songs that can make me, songs that can break me; songs that can take me to another place in time. There are songs that can inspire me and give me hope. There are songs that can bring me to tears. There are songs that make me wish for things and there are songs that tear me down. There are songs of war and songs of peace. There are songs of home; of familiar streets and smells of hot dogs on the fourth of July. There are songs of far-away places; of strange languages spoken by strange faces. There are songs of rivers flowing onward, downward into the arms of an all encompassing ocean. There are songs that give me a sense of belonging and there are songs that make me fear that I do not belong. There are songs that sound of snow and fire and winter wind. There are songs of bright, sunny, cloudless, blue skies; and songs of mountains and beaches; of sailboats and suntan oil; of boardwalks and trails. There are songs that I know have come directly from the lips of angels. There are songs of my youth and songs of my old age and of my in-between. There are songs of the shower and songs of families gathered in one room. There are songs of my mother and songs of my father and songs I catch myself singing that I did not know I knew. There are songs of my children; songs of little blue eyes and laughter and the smell of babies. There are songs of funerals and of other long good-byes; songs of healing and of pain. There are, first and last, songs of love, real love, when I knew I had found the person I would never leave. There are songs of deep happiness that no one can explain. There are songs of vision when I can see clearly to the other side of my life and there are songs of rain and dark days when nothing makes sense. There are songs of life that was, life that is, and life that will be; songs of people living lives unseen; quiet songs of the day to day; songs of the ordinary; beautiful songs sung by many, heard by a few.
There are songs.
Hear the songs.
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