On Harmony

I used to play piano religiously. I used to play everyday and now it's sad that I don't have enough time to contribute to the things I love to do. I miss things. I miss the peace-ful hum of silence on a sunny spring morning... or the sound of raindrops hitting the ceiling and sliding down the window... I miss childhood.

It's amazing what Henry Mancini does to me. That stream of conscious that takes flight in

the early hours come through the tune of "A Time for us."

I used to play that.

And when the house was quiet, and all you could hear was the quiet tones on the piano. I love it especially when it rains. I feel at peace then. And I escape the haste and chaos of everyday life. With the priorities of work, with the haste of time, with the need to meet deadlines... time slips us by. I hate wasting the time.

This though, this is not time wasted. I'm at peace when I talk to you.

Wow, I'm getting chills.

Let me paint a picture for you. This is my heaven. You know that novel, The Five People You Meet in Heaven or even Tuesdays With

Morrie (my favorite) by Mitch Albom... he describes everyone as having their own heaven. A certain place, or time when everything was perfect, and everything was at peace.

The calm after the storm.

The smell right before the rain as daylight tints the blue sky with pink.

The sweet dew on the spring grass.

Background Music

My heaven is set in a clearing. Located half an hour from the rush of the city, the surrounding lights add an eerie enchanting glow to the setting. The grass I can still feel against my bare sole, the smell of the ocean combined with the

breeze sending a chill from my hairline to the tips of my toes... To the left, the skyline...

You can hear the soft rumble of cars and the rhythm of the urban scene, but it's only a hum, only a soft rhythm that beats in time with your breath.

To the right... the rippling ocean. No waves, just ripples. And the lights from the city lose their fluorescence and leave their shadow of a pure hue, soft and smooth against the dark blue of the ocean. Just above it all... the overlooking Darling Harbour and the White tips just above the trees. Maybe if you listen close enough, you can hear the sound of a single streamline high soprano.

Do you see it?

This is my heaven.

This is my refuge.

This is my place.

This is my time.

This is my love.

This is my dream.

This is my reality.

This is me.

Do you see it?