“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.