Invisible Force.

When the street jazz player puts his stand up at 10:30am

in the cool spring morning of May in Minneapolis.

He plays the happiest of melodies, such a treat from one soul,

who fills the streets with music.

The melody starts to form phrases and poems in my mind…

the morning journey begins.

What is it to be in love with love,

why does love always find its way to me,

always filling up for me,

when I was ice cold and empty,

even when depression floods over me,

music has its way with me,

all the sorrow I had ever felt, is now free

love always finds its way to me.

what is it to finally feel hope

when you wake up and you are finally woke

all the colors are back, not black and white

and your voice eased and listened to when the words spoke.

what a wonderful feeling it is to feel seen

when all your colours are bright and people notice the in between

they smile of the memories you have made, and the way you made them feel

they way your friends tag you long

and make you grin.

what a gorgeous thing it is to feel the wind in your hair,

with hours and hours to yourself

and knowing you don’t need to accomplish anything

just to be content and here.

here, living, in peace.

what a magnificent feeling it is to sit still,

being forgiving of yourself, forgiving of others,

and enjoying the simplicity of contentment in front of you.

some of our happiness won’t be shiny,

trust me it isn’t going to be gold.

its going to be the invisible force that we hold inside

the force that keeps your chin held high.

the force that keeps my chest out and open

the power that keeps the ego in check with reality

the magnificent hug of warm temperature when you see your own reflection in the mirror.

the feeling of love.

love for this gigantic master piece of man kind and nature

the acceptance of one’s self and the place we have in our own individual world.