a girl, her uke, and thoughts at 1:45am
those are the moments i remember. the ones i cherish. the deep moments … getting a glimpse of what’s inside. a precious hush blankets the air and the delicate strums on a ukulele begin to dance their way into the sound waves of my ears.
a shuffle here and a clearing of the throat there.
then without any expectation an inhale lets out a raspy belt that sounds ever so fresh at 1:50am
like a lullaby
or mama june’s sweet song for the summer
you’d hear her humming as she hangs the linens on the line and hands her husband a fresh squeezed glass of chilled lemonade. the simple times molded by some heavy sentiment. nostalgia at it’s finest
i can smell the warm air of the season filled with lilacs and honey.
barefoot picnics and a straw-hat lover who smiles in silence at our unannounced adventures
i am honored. i am given the opportunity to sit and listen to someones most inner thoughts. to be gifted with the existence of vulnerable beings, which inspires me to let my own melodies soar in whichever way best suits me.
i am a witness to creation.
i am a witness to my own being.