There are certain feelings that we have no words for
When language ceases its purpose for communication
When we are stripped bare of our need to speak
When we are tangled with strings of notes instead of words
When we are no longer haunted by ghosts but embraced by stars
Like a moon wrapped in the sky but still emanating its glow
We look up with hope and awe
We have the rhythms of the earth cascading, harmonies pounding,
Tears streaming, paths clearing, fears dissolving –
Sometimes, we do not need a word for a definition,
When we learn how to listen, not hear
We find depth and we find meaning
Things/people that make our year are singled out and articulated with technicalities, personal thoughts, and/or cerebral phrasings. ‘Song/book/album/artist/people’ of the year and so on. Then years past and they become part of a history, an archive, or a statistic. They now belong to a pedestal, or sit on a throne, along with the other greats and classics.
I too, have one. A personal one.
I choose Encounters with a Yeti’s Pilot as my album of the year. For the many memories, feelings, and stories that it hold, for the countless times it unburdened me, for how it becomes my air when my head’s underwater.