The Song We Make

The morning has washed itself clean.

Pearl-gray light rests across the brick buildings. Rainwater shines on the sidewalk and gathers in shallow pools along the curb. I fasten my rust-colored coat, settle my cap, and begin walking.

An awning releases one bright drop.

Then another.

Each drop opens a ring in the water below. The rings widen, meet, and pass through one another.

My boots join them.

Heel. Toe.

Heel. Toe.

Tires whisper over the wet street. A metal shutter rolls upward. Somewhere above me, a window slides open and a spoon touches the side of a cup. A train moves beyond the roofs with a low, even hum.

Every sound comes forward. Each one has room.

The whole block is making music.

I smile and say ~

The words fit the rhythm of my walk.

When I say we, I begin with myself and Infinite Intelligence.

I bring my breath and my step. You, Infinite Intelligence, bring the timing, the listening, and the space between sounds.

Then the word keeps widening.

We means the person lifting the shutter and the person setting down the cup. We means the driver, the neighbor, the child, the bird, the old tree, the rain moving toward the river, and the roots drinking beneath the pavement.

We means everyone and everything, everywhere, all at once.

Each part carries its own sound. Each arrives in its own time. The low sounds hold the ground. The bright sounds open the air. My footsteps keep their place inside the measure.

“We harmonize perfectly.”

I turn beneath an old iron arcade. Columns rise beside me in a long repeating line. Water trembles in the spaces between them. My next step returns to me as a soft echo.

My step joins the rhythm already moving through the block.

I feel that closeness as I walk ~ inside the timing, inside the listening, inside the generous space that holds every part.

Life plays through the rain, the brick, the turning wheels, the moving air, and the people waking into their day. Life plays through me too.

“Our frequencies resonate.”

I breathe in.

The air is cool and clean.

I breathe out.

My coat moves against my knees. A bicycle wheel catches a pale strip of light. A flock of pigeons lifts from a roof, circles once, and settles beyond the next block.

Voices drift from an open window. One voice rises. Another answers. Laughter follows, warm and easy.

I hear the world, and I add my own clear note.

“Our harmonies are transcendent.”

The ordinary morning carries the infinite inside it.

My part is simple ~ breath, step, attention, gratitude.

I keep walking, whole and distinct, inside the greater song. Every drop, engine, wing, voice, leaf, and heartbeat enters in its own time. Infinite Intelligence holds the rhythm. Everyone and everything brings the music.

I smile and say it once more ~

“We make the most beautiful music together.”