To the music of the soul there is only one conductor, as the arrow of truth silences the liar, in love, the broken spirit of indifference is defied, overcome, call the stars divine and hold every living thing closer, pull multi-colored threads through a silver needle from the brightness of every new rainbow, the future, to have and to hold, to buoy again the sunken spirit, soothe the brow of disappointment, caress the long-neglected psyche, fill the aching heart. Leave the torment, the torture of never knowing behind. The spirit can never be emptied of what it has already earned, the full measure of promise, shared until the warmth is felt in every cell, every frozen vein, every aching bone and rigid muscle, the heavy veil of untruths, the cloak of confusion is returned to its rightful owner, the magic of touch, the dance of abandon, the fireside clapping of encouraging flames, laughter reaching the heavens, returns with joyful step, side by side, believing in inner strength and winning the battle. There will always be an unfurling morning rose in the mind of the truth garden. Lay down the shield, the sword, there will be no war within, without, no symphonies for belittling mind-games or manipulation, no head-shaking or plotting, no lies or sarcasm, no meanness of spirit or cruelty, no judgment or revenge. The bell has rung.
