There are times in my life when song leaves me in the same way I might find myself in a writers block.
I still listen to music every day and sing the kind of songs mothers do to their children.
But the spontaneous singing when the mood takes you, for nothing more than the love of it, ceases.

In these times I don’t feel like singing any kind of song. My heart isn’t in it. It’s off with my mind somewhere, preoccupied, searching for something like peace.

Not answers. Not happiness. More an awakening. Clarity. Like wispy, vapours of warm air rising from the wet grass when morning breaks and sunshine bounces about the dew drops.

Sometimes, my music is gone for a very long time until suddenly, without warning, I’m filled with the warmest, passion for the new day. It’s the strangest feeling to suddenly wake up again.

Whatever put me to sleep for so long has healed the worries I had and made sense of that last act of life. In its way, allowing an intermission and now the curtain goes up again. Song returns with a voice.

Hope is a persistent survivor.

© 2025 Juliette Proffitt ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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