The old songs came blaring through from a neighbor’s radio while I was half-awake, reading a novel.
Their music and words penetrating every door and window of houses nearby, as the sun’s ray of light invades our side of the earth.
More significantly, they distracted me from the story I’m reading.
These songs penetrate every fiber of my being,
striking a chord again in the chambers of my broken heart,
trying to light a fire in the fading embers of my soul.
I moved away from our living room to my bed to not hear it, but there I hear it just the same.
The old songs reminded me of my supposed first love. A love that’s unconditional and undying. A love that keeps haunting me.
These songs tell a story of when I was lost and found. But now I’m lost again…
Searching for direction.
Searching for some light.
Searching for some glimmer of hope.
Through the years, my life went through a roller coaster of seasons: of inspiration and desperation.
I moved away, so far away, towards my destiny, only to be hurled back again to the place where I began.
The old songs have been a part of me all along. So much so that I can no longer forget their music, their words.
Much to my desire to get away from everything, these songs beckon me to a great unfolding.
Even if my present looks bleak,
This road is long and narrow,
A bright future still waits nevertheless.
The old songs set me on a journey. I sing them when trials come. I sing them in my moments of triumph. They guide me when I am lost.
These songs have become my voice, my soul, my life…when I’m losing it all.