Bing and I

Bing Crosby is in my living room right now.
He is crooning the words to Silent Night.
We hang out every Christmas, Bing and I.
He sings.
I sing.
We harmonize and create melodies he never knew would ever happen.
Silent Night never sounded so good.

It's a time of year that inspires musical eruptions from the masses.
In malls.
In stores.
In parades.
In churches.
In television shows and movies.
In the old and in the new.

Music is an expression of deep feeling and innate connection to someone greater than what we can understand.
It sings at the core of our being.
It dwells within each of us, binding us to our Creator.
Every single human has this tune.
From a hum, to a sing, to a playing instrument, to a whistle.
We are musical creatures.
Whether we know it or not; whether we like it or not; whether we use it for good, or not.
It is undeniable.
Music is in our souls.

Silent Night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright ...
Holy infant, tender and mild ...
Glories stream from heaven afar, heavenly hosts sing Alleluia ...
Christ the Savior is born ...
Radiant beams from Thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace ...
Jesus, Lord at Thy birth.
Jesus, Lord ...    (Silent Night ~ Joseph Mohr, Franz Gruber; 1816/1818)

And so my soul sings on ...

All year my song sings.
But at Christmas time it sings with Bing.

I sit by my glittering Christmas tree, sucking on a candy cane, humming around the peppermint flavour that invades my mouth. My candied hum moves from one song to the next.
And my soul rests in bliss.