The coffee shop up the road was open and I needed caffeine, I needed a jolt of something strong. I walk to the front and wait for someone to take my order, these days have been tiresoume and the coffee helps of course, but I need something else. I wasn’t in the mood to hear any music, I’m in this podcast phase and I don’t even listen to albums. I rather hear about them being talked about on the podcast than actually listen to them, maybe I heard them one too many times and just needed a break.
There is a women at the corner of the room playing piano, she has her back towards me and begins to play a song. I recognize the song instantly it’s a Lauryn Hill song, it was a brave song to cover, the lyrics were so beautiful, descriptive of this meaningful relationship, I decided to stay and listen to her rendition. Her hair was curly, not curly sue, just dark velvet swirl, locks landing on the back of her midnight blue sundress.
The notes and the keys that are pressed ring like bells to tell this love tale. The bell of the church rings to the people, sadness usually follows the chimes. The voice of a storyteller, a sweet soul, I could listen to hear her play this song over and over for days. I want to marry this women, I know nothing about her expect that she can play piano and sing. Is love suppose to be complicated, can’t I just fall in love with someone so easily.
You ever wonder if all these romantic movies and heartbreaking songs are only attempts to describe what “Love” is? Like what if love songs were only songs about what they thought (the song writer) love was, or a glimpse of what it was or can be? Maybe Love is this evolving form and it just takes on many shapes. We write about it, and sing about it, only to try to explain what it actually could be in our own individual understanding.
The room is painted a light green, the brown piano is up against the wall, she is sharing this account of her experience on earth. My mind opens up because I know the song, yet I know someone was giving their interpretation, their honor and commitment to a song. I am ready to be in the right place, her voice is hope that I can resolve the melody and storyline in my own song.
I fall in Love and yet I still leave the coffee shop alone. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but what about the sound? What does “Love” sound like, without sight can I hear what Love is? Does Love need to be heard or is it something that can only be seen.
She continues to sing and play her piano while everyone thinks about that one special person in their life.