The sounds of the world are an untuned orchestra —
a crying baby clashing with the hum of a bee’s wings.
Just as crashing cymbals jar the soothing purr of an oboe.
How does a crashing wave rhythmically coasting across the sand accompany the honks of a NYC cab?
To the ear —
the sounds of the world are a cacophony.
To the soul —
the sounds of the world are in harmony.
The evening breeze cooled my sticky, sweat soaked skin as I swatted at the mosquitos in search of a meal. A welcomed chill ran up my spine as I glanced up at the summer stars above the rickety, wooden balcony that provided me a seat. The boy across from me rearranged the cement block he rested on, catching my attention. I breathed in the smell of salt and dirt coming from his sun-stained and tired body. A smirk crept across my lips as I watched his muscles tense and release in an effort to find comfort sitting on cement. Read more