Singing with my hands.

I am not sure why,
But when I sing,
When I pour every ounce of my soul into a song,
And I feel each atom of my being vibrating in unison.
When I gently rock my body to the rhythm,
Close my eyes,
And tilt my head trancelike,
It is my hands that lose all control.

But I sing in a choir and I am almost there.
In that unique little zone of happiness.
Communing with my fellow choristers,
And making beautiful music,
Together.

Yet...

To set my hands free,
To move and jerk about to their own will.
To flap and retract and bend this way and that,
To no design but their own.
It is in these brief moments.
When I sing unrepressed.
I can be truly free.

Release

Of late,
The hurt and despair of disappointment,
Has been great,
I have been to the brink.
Shutdown.
Meltdown.
Those who know intimately,
The acronym ASD.
May empathise.

But having returned from the abyss.
I find that there is still one threshold to cross.
It is difficult to explain,
But to venture into a place of such mental anguish,
Requires a similar return journey.
The cocktail of cortisol,
Mixed, not stirred,
With dry disappointment.
Leaves the brain numb and on high alert.

It takes a physical release,
A letting go,
To come back.
A long loving embrace,
Or even orgasm,
Achieves this state.

But today I discovered another way.
The reaction was identical,
Long sobs racking my body
Turning to hyperventilation.
I crumpled with the weight of it.
And the cause.
I just sang.

Carols by Candlelight

The air was slowly cooling,

Thank goodness.

People were gathering,

With full eskies, foldout chairs, 

Or blankets on the drying grass.

Small children as diminutive Santas,

Tinselled elves or barefoot Christmas Angels,

Ran about squealing with excitement.

This ritual, repeated in the daylight-saved twilight,

Of each small town across the country.

Is about to begin here, in my town.

Our choirmaster, in readiment, lifts his arms for the first up-beat. 

Then booming out across the lawn our combined acapella. 

"Joy to the World the Lord is come!"

Conviviality of Singing

Some possess the voice of an angel,
Sweet and clear like tolling bells,
Others the deeper tones,
That roll your eardrums in sweet honey.
The bass you can feel vibrate through your entire body,
Down to your feet and into the floor.
Singing together,
We have a communal bath in sound.
It lifts our spirits and makes us one with the vibrations of the cosmos,
As one entity.

A Little Light Music

After dinner,
While my children look mournfully at their cooling vegetables,
I practice a little light music.
Generally piano,
But if I am inspired I move onto ukulele.
Or sometimes guitar.
Playing is really accompaniment.
I play a multitude of instruments badly.
There are phases,
Violin and mandolin,
Have also been known to come down off the wall,
Tuned and played with.
But my best instrument,
The most enjoyable, portable, creative and versatile,
That can fill my heart and soul with every emotion.
Is my voice.

Singing the Cosmos

What is it about singing,
That makes you feel so...
Alive?
To sing alone,
That is soul enriching,
But to sing with others,
Is like a form of communion.
Yes you are together,
Voices in harmony.
More than that.
It is like when the notes combine,
In rhythms and chords,
In sympathy with our breath and beating hearts,
What is produced is a key to the very
Cosmos.
Together we are singing the universe.