In a year from now I want to be the song on the radio.
The one that I flip through the stations to find, that other people call in to request.
And even when it’s not on or it’s good and over, parked in the driveway, I want to keep on singing. No matter what happens to me. No matter what driveway I end up on. Right now I laugh when the wind gets knocked out of me and wait for the next blow. I want to look heavenward instead and say that blow’s not coming. I am music notes on airwaves riding raindrops till I reach the sun. And it doesn’t matter that my heart’s gotten bruised and battered because when I’m sung I heal and there’s nothing quite like hitting that note.
I’ll write notes across crimson skies when times are hard, I’ll write across the clouds and the blue and into the ears of those who need me. I will seep through closed doors and out of windowpanes and straight on through the glass, never going out of tune. So tune into me, a living breathing melody of hope. I want to be stuck in people’s heads and the soundtrack to the movie of your life. Whistled under the breath of someone who doesn’t know where they’re going until they find the rainbow they’ve been chasing. I want to be the nostalgia on the lips of someone who’s remembered where they’ve been. A lullaby to all of us awake in the day and an anthem when night finally comes. I want to play a lovesong to the story of a life worth living.