Dvorák: A Moment of Thursday

A moment of Thursday.
Take a moment of Thursday to listen to this piece of music and do nothing.
Stare out of a window, let your eyes glaze over.
Be swept into the rippling leaves of trees that have been coaxed to dance in the wind.
Become lost. (I did.)
Do not read these words while you listen, please.
These words are thin and paltry in comparison to this immaculacy.
Do not read anything.
Just listen.
The trees, I think, understand this music, and any music.
The trees know things we do not.
Or perhaps we know, but have forgotten.
There is no time for good music in the scramble of modern life.
If you cannot find 12 minutes of uninterrupted time to listen to this music, do not even bother.
But if you can scrape together a mere 12 minutes, please:
Listen to this.
Hear this.
There is a difference.
The trees will dance in perfect time to every rise and fall of note, I promise.
The trees know.
We are learning, remembering.
Poetry is music, but the reverse is also true.
Listen to this, and it will make your Thursday better.
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Dvorák: A Moment of Thursday

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