When Heaven Speaks

There are many who say that Earth is separate from Heaven, and the only way to see what Heaven looks like is to die a good and honest person. There are others who believe there is no such thing as Heaven, nor anything of its like, and that the only thing after death is darkness and oblivion.

I can prove both wrong.

For you see, in every breath drawn between snatches of melody, every plucked string, and every beaten drum, there is a glimpse of eternity. A glimpse of paradise. Music is the thread that connects us to forever, to the idea-place existing beyond our mortal eyes. And music exists for all.

Even the blind, who cannot see the intricacies of the violin can learn her song, with careful fingers and listening ears.

Even the deaf, who cannot hear the precise melody of a song can feel his beat beneath their feet, and in tune dance beautifully to the rhythm.

Music draws us all close, beckoning with the sharpness of its discord and the soothing of its harmony, able to convey exquisite beauty even within wretched ugliness.

Even the artist and the writer, who turn to the coarse smoothness of canvas and the stroke of a pen rather than piano keys or viola strings can find the muse in melodies. Imagination, the mistress taunting and elusive, is hidden between strains of cello and strums of guitar, softly calling even to the star-chasers of tomorrow and the moon-travelers of yesterday.

So yes, Heaven exists, regardless of what that means to you or anyone else who cares to imagine it. And if you don't believe my words, turn to the singers and musicians of the here and now. Explore the long legacy stretching back endlessly before. Cheer for the new generation brave enough to take their voices and instruments to the stage. Regardless of which genre you feel Heaven resides in, it will still be there, waiting patiently for humanity to listen. So listen closely.