Receive the full sensual experience of this Post on Through Harold’s Lens. Play the music as you are enjoying the images and words.
A chill went up my spine with the spiritual uplifting notes.
My muffled Mephistos stilled.
My eyes teared with more inspiring notes.
A cello of passion was whispering.
Riveting. Intense. A timeless aria.
Across a lonely road in Gdansk.
In the shade.
Under the large, leafy oak.
The brazilwood bow brushed slowly across the strings.
Snow-white feather fingers glided slowly along the neck.
Eyes caressed her cheeks.
From her heart. Her soul.
Dreaming. Calm. Peaceful.
Her lithe body swaying with the music.
With tears flowing, Nikon rose to my eye.
Fog through the rivulets.
Push. click. Push click. Push click.
The greatest hymn ever written.
Her eyes glided open.
I whispered “thank you”, in English.
She whispered “thank you” in Polish.
May you find an expression of love, calm and spiritual dimension listening to the music from my morning.