From Earth to Sky

This music starts somewhere in my core. My stomach churns, my heart tumbles, and tears or laughter or awe wells in my eyes. Radiating out, the particles of bass, treble, and inspiration clog my veins, traveling with my oddly shaped amino acids and their greater blood vessels to the exotic locations: my cold toes, my small fingers, and the hair follicles that grow my mane.

Ah, this song activates chakras: red and green and purple. I want to moan, but it's too much, too forward. In the silence of my solitary car, driving faster than I should, everything lines up. The easy response of gas to my petal soothes: I have control and I turn this machine on. I wonder, is she an extension of me? Does her electronic core, her elegant beating six cylinders, run on music like me? Could we avoid the gas station together and run on the open road?

A long road in Wyoming comes to mind. A lone droplet explodes onto the windshield, and I notice the behemoth black cumulus that hangs above. I push my car, I make her go, just to know that she can. And so well. The bland vehicles around me pass into the distance and I forget they ever existed. The ghostly Subaru whispers in my mind, and I let go.

This music starts somewhere in my core. Everything lights up, my energy flows, and I wish I had someone to share my passion with.