CONCERT

"Eventually the song had to end," I kept telling myself. The man up on stage would just not stop strumming his guitar. The way that he effortlessly moved his fingers along the strings was almost hypnotizing. The way that the light caught his face and his guitar and the way that you could see that his eyes were closed, and he was smiling. He was not playing a song at this point. He was playing what his heart said at this point, and the audience realized this and none of them spoke a word. All of them just remained dazzled by how effortlessly this man breezed his fingers along his guitar and played a tune so beautiful it would even put angels to sleep.

The man was young and bursting with enough energy that he would've been able to light up an entire room of lightbulbs. The light shined off of him and he absorbed all of the warmth that contrasted with the darkness of the others watching the show, as he continued playing his soul. From the short staccatos of the singular plucks of the guitar to the harmonic bliss of the guitar, it truly seemed like there was no end. This would be one's swan song. This would be one's wedding song. This would be one's funeral song. To be able to witness the pure magic that was occurring on the stage, with the bass emanating off of the speakers and shaking our very hearts into affection, this was not a concert, but rather a door that was opened to us into this man's heart. As we saw the red shining off of his head with the rough bass sound of the guitar, to the blue, mellow sadness that would have even turned the shinest sun clouds into gloomy rainstorms, the light continued to open up on the audience, as it was now coming off of the stage and into the seats of the audience that opened their hearts to this experience.

As soon as it seemed like the song was over, he stood up with such ferocity that the stool fell back and he grabbed the microphone and sang with such a humble buzz to that of a bumblebee in the summer breeze and a vibrato so rough that you could feel it scratch your skin, like sandpaper on a rough canvas. He continued to sing his heart, as the light above him continued to change colors, as yellow began to shine over him like the bright sun on a humid summer's day and he continued to sing with that of a voice of a child's laugh as they run along the sidewalk with a popsicle. The light now began to shine over the audience who was watching this man, as some began to stand up and simply move along to the music. The way you could feel the beat of the man's foot-tapping down on the stage as if it was his very heartbeat, and the way that he was strumming his guitar and singing like he was displaying his very soul to the whole world to witness. The way the man continued to sing would have made even the most tone-deaf person's heartache, like that of a gentle puppy running in the grass or a baby crying as their mother strolls by. The way that the whole theater was now lit up as people from all over the theater began to stand up, and shine their own lights that lit up the once dark theater. As the man began to continue singing, the crowd began singing along with the man, each other harmonizing with one another so well that for a moment, just a moment, there was no world. There was no war, there was no evil, there were no races. Just humanity sharing this moment of peace and tranquility with the man that was up on the stage, as he continued to smoothly yell out his soul like there was no tomorrow.

The moment the song ended, it didn't feel over. The guitar had stopped. The man had stopped singing, yet the song had not finished. The audience was clapping, yet there was no noise besides my very heartbeat that I felt throb throughout my whole body. A tear struck my eye. My ears opened back up. I took my hands together and clapped so hard that my palms turned from white to red. The song was over, and all I could do was cry. The way that my heart was touched by the man himself, and how by him opening his door to us to allow his to speak his soul that it, in turn, opened a door that I had not known was even closed in the first place. It took this man, to show me how there were doors in the most unexpected of places, and even the simplest doors lock behind the most forsaken treasures that bypass that of gold.

The song was over, but it hadn't truly ended, as my heart continued to hum the tune. For the man had taught me a song I had never once known and taught me a song that I will continue to hum as my heart continues to beat on.