You, Bird, Must Sing.

1.  I have a friend I met in a hallway.  I was admiring her corduroy jacket and pretty dang certain that we could get along just fine.  So when I visited her house and she asked sort of shy and excited, "Would you want to hear a couple of songs?" I said yes and sat in her living room while she dug me out of a rut with a voice like a strong shovel meant to open up fertile ground in the heart of anyone near enough to hear it, and I was near enough.  And I couldn't believe it.  I don't even think I was able to articulate to her what I was hearing.

2.  And when she goes on stage, she owns that stage, and it's easy to see that she feels good there, too.  And if you look into the audience, they feel pretty good where they're at, as well.   Seems to me as if we have a good match.

3.  She wrote a song for me, and when she sang it the first time, I don't think I breathed.  She handed me a balm I had yet to apply to my wounds, and it worked.  She has the gift of healing songs.  And she took the time to write it.  And that is something I'll never let go of--that she didn't just listen to what I'd said.  She made it into something, gave it back to me and my life was suddenly a gift, and I could accept it, every portion of it spelled out in chords and deep, knowing words that knew me better than I knew myself.  And this is why we need her.