Spirati Jeeraphs

Memry Jeeraphs

Alls Jeeraphs

Wells Jeeraph

The Space, The Wait of a Written Song

On such a run of songwriting, I was. For months those heavenly bodies dip-danced beyond my window to the tune of the constant ticking in my head of some song being nurtured. Unhurried as the stars that seemingly sit but are not seen come morning, my writing process is a slow one, and thus often relegates a song to dwell beautifully in the back of my mind. Somewhere. Certain. Willing. Teasing. Ticking.

After Wednesday’s end came the day when I had to release myself from songwriting. Why? To keep space clear and away from some attentive listening I looked forward to. To really listen to something is to absorb it, inevitably. And there exists a fear of influences affecting the writing. There are only so many melodies to be made, after all. So the clearance sought was necessary. Stars are seen as glorious not only by their light, but also by the space between them.

Then there was the following day. So came the unease. The emptiness of no effort in song, recognized, and the heavens rolled by with no sound. That ticking in my mind was indeed found to be fulfilling. Without it? Dread. 

Oh to listen to another’s ticks!

But I am loyal. 

Ill as I am without you, to my muse I say, “Wait for me. Soon the stars will dance again to our song.”