I walked into Izy Coffee this morning, feeling the exhaustion.  Yesterday I completed everything about my Will, my Power of Attorney, and having my executor Lydia contact my beloved ones after I die.

And now I’ve crashed.  Plus Covid seems to be lingering.  This will be a short post.

Catriona, the barista, said:

Last time I saw you, you were going to sing karaoke

Bruce replied:

No, I had Covid.  I didn’t have the energy and I didn’t want to infect people

With my cappuccino, I sat down on the black couch next to my friend Samuel.  He hadn’t heard my conversation with Catriona.  Minutes later, though, he asked:

Do you sing at home?

And we talked about the glories of song.  Something shines and fills the room far beyond the human voice.  When we open our mouths to sing, out come the vibrations, the sweetness of the lyrics, the flow of the melody.  The world is touched.  Within the body is a line of yearning that curves upwards from the toes to the mouth.  And the song emerges to seek out the far corners of the universe, to colour human spirits beautiful.

And … I can’t access any of that right now

My mouth is silent

The words of love are dormant in my lungs

***

But why not smile about the “not now”?

All will be expressed again …