While I could feed myself with fire and swim my body clean, finding one song for the rest of my days would be the hardest choice of all. A song that would always move me, always take me away, but always bring me back. A song that would never fade into a drone, that would keep its colours bright, always inspire, despite repeated play.

I’d be deliberating over the possibilities, the probabilities of living with one piece over another, my mind fluttering like the arpeggiating fingers of a pianist. But when the time comes the choice will be as spontaneous as any I have made over the years. A clear note will chime through the clutter - that old favourite, the one I was humming all along.

At first she would sing me to sleep. A comfort in the night as I got settled into island living. When the peace of isolation from the world turns into the isolation of lonely, she would be there to sing me back to my senses. To cradle and nurture a will from my shivering cowardice. When I wake each morning her voice will swim in with the soft breath of the tide. A ghost of the midnight fire along the beach. And when the ocean murmurs rumours of a storm to the distant sky, I’ll dial up the volume and let her wash right over - lay back and let her submerse me in a tsunami of sound.

Every time she hits the climax I will fall a little differently. Sometimes she’ll scream down the skies, throwing a shower of volcanic ash upon the island. Other times she’ll slip under the covers of the ocean lip, a slow walk back to the depths of my soul; an ember in my heart.

Inevitably I’ll find myself one day deep within the forest, tripping over the undergrowth and dropping bundles of sticks for firewood. The rhythm of the tumble reminding me of falling down the stairs as a young boy. I’ll return to that place and drop sticks intentionally. Hope for the rhythm to repeat. For the magic to happen again. But no matter how many times I repeat the experiment, no theory will shine through. And so I will return to the shore. To the tune I know so well. Footsteps falling in time with my heart.

It’s then I’ll truly know - she was the right song all along.

Posted: August 26, 2012 • 8:59 PM
With: 61 notes
Filed Under: #prose #creative writing #spilledinkprose
  1. robyn23s reblogged this from loqui and added:
    popcorn + drink is advised. :D
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  8. starlingwings said: You wrote prose & got featured :) You are brilliant! x
  9. embeeness said: Oh, this is just wonderful…
  10. ceruleanlvoodoo said: Awesome. Ive been getting into writing free verse more as well. If you have the time let me know what you think of my work. Letioperarius.tumblr.com