“My gift is my song, and this one is for you… And you can tell everybody that this is your song. It might be quite simple but now that it’s done. I hope you don’t mind.  I hope you don’t mind That I put down in words…”

            Some souls strike you different.  The world is moved; axis upon which it spins shifts.  There is witness to beauty before unseen, wonder where there was none: all from an effect, a small moment in perception that changes everything for another.  Maybe it’s from a beginning, years down the line, but a difference rises.  It is noticed, and everything is changed. 

            It inspires.  It begets art: words, lyricism, works…It raises what before lain hidden in the soul of the affected.  Maybe the reason is known.  Maybe it remains a mystery, but the change is pronounced, undeniable, and noticed by many.  They live with a different light, walk in a different way.  It is a magic, a mysticism, and it has a name—love.

            It is a life of giving, sharing, and spreading.  It is a life lived for another, or others.  What before held focus falls away, and what was never thought, seen, or considered acquires a new preeminence. 

            It happens every day.  A life is changed on a street, in a class, a room, or just a mind, and ever after—a life is different. 

            It is beautiful to live, beautiful to know, and a wonder to witness lived in an affected other. 

            Beyond the change, some days we forget, but then it rises back—a song… a sight… a memory is triggered.  All is resurrected.  It is a magic, a mysticism, and it has a name. 

            It is love.

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