Pleasant Melancholy

It is symphonic It is rhythmic It tells a story, of love and life, of pleasure and pain, of joy and sadness; a story of defeat and triumph It is the invisible book of the human experience It has the power, to move you, to make you yearn for more, of its delightfully painful, audible deliciousness It can deliver you; it can be your cry of deliverance It is so mysterious; it could only be celestial It straddles the emotions quietly packing a punch, but pulls it, only to suck you in When it hits, it leaves no bruises It knocks you out, into the habitation of joy; a relief from heaviness It is transcendent; a passport and transport, to the esoteric zone; the inner longing of the soul, warping the time in its wake, at such a pace, that leaves you transported It blows in, from beyond the firmament, riding the undulating, invisible crests of space It is copious in joyfulness, filling the soulful emptiness; an aid to cope with the sorrowfulness of humanness, reaching deep into the soul, soothing even the savage beast It is infectious, but does no harm It is delightfully musing; rousing a deep satisfaction, yet, in it, lies a deeper longing, for something or somewhere, fleetingly familiar, very present, yet very distant Seemingly desiring to reconnect, to something or somewhere, enchanting, elusive, and disconnected Shhh! Can you hear it? It is music! It is Jazz!