I went to another house concert last night. It was folk music – the songs of stories. I listened to marvelous lyrics and voices … and I watched love unfold.
I’ll make up names for the stars of the show, and no, I don’t mean the performers. Lillian and Mike are our hosts. Most Wednesday evenings, they open their home to all who have ears to hear. While the musicians were playing last night, this lovely couple sat close to each other, touching. They held hands. I think we should all do that. Every so often, I’d sneak a glance over to them, and a tiny smile would show up on my lips.
Each week, Todd plays a first set on the keyboard. His fingers float and caress. After a few creations, he asks us to welcome “the amazing” Erica, she of the haunting voice. Often at the end of a song, she’ll lean over and kiss the side of Todd’s head. I’m sure that Lillian and Mike were in the background, nodding.
Jake’s voice has deteriorated. It’s raspy. I never heard him when the flow was sweet, and that’s just fine. Last night, in the third set, he joined the evening headliners for a rendition of Comfortably Numb from Pink Floyd. Jake didn’t hold back:
There is no pain, you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone
I have become comfortably numb
As Jake gave us his all, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Julia. She was beaming at her hubby and soon joined in with a delicate harmony to his melody. The room fell into the beauty of it all.
We take turns, you and me
One with the top line, the other with the bottom
So deeply in tune