So recently, a friend of mine, from Twirling in the Rain, reminded me that she had a blog, which, in turn, reminded me that I have a blog. It has not yet been a full year since my last post, so I don’t feel too bad. But anyway.
The impetus for this post is a poorly timed coffee, the insomnia brought on as a result, my very nature, and my whirling thoughts.
I’ve said before that I’m an all-or-nothing sort of person. Either my life is completely falling apart or it’s completely put together. Right now it’s on the “completely put together” end of the spectrum, which includes picking up the things I’ve neglected for way too long (i.e., my blog). But in putting my life back together, I feel as if I tried to take off running without realizing that I’ve had my feet tied down—like in a slapstick comedy where the hapless hero or bad guy falls flat on his face.
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Personally, in all the fields of literature, I prefer poetry. I find that poetry says what I want to say, only better. It’s not enough to say that I’m lonely. It’s not enough to say that watching the leaves fall makes me feel lonely. I have to compare my loneliness to the togetherness of the leaves. But saying it like that sounds stupid. So I put it in a poem. (And if you don’t like my poem, I’m sorry. I wasn’t entirely happy with it myself, that’s why I was wrestling with it.)
But what does that have to do with music? Music is poetry. Sometimes it’s feels like the song or the notes are singing directly to your soul. Just like the leaves, Kiss the Rain by Yiruma makes me feel.. lonely. Or longing. There aren’t any words, it’s just the notes that say, “I’m sad, come stay with me.”
That’s why the Psalms and hymns are so valuable; they speak our brokenness better than we can.
Why am I talking about this? Because there’s something on my heart that I can’t express with plain words. I want to share it, but how can I share something that’s so specific to me? If I simply said it, you wouldn’t feel it, because it would just be my story. I want to speak, not just the words of my soul, but words that your soul can understand. That is the power of poetry, to speak to another’s soul in words that everyone can understand. Isn’t that a language that everyone should want to speak in?