Leaves Over Water

11:30 pm. The house is still. I’m at my computer and Enya’s haunting melodies float around the four walls of our study room. Soft pianos and synthesizer tunes. Hints of guitars and violins and light percussions. And her beatific, mystical, ethereal singing. Lifting me up and beyond the room, out into the night, and the twinkling lights of the faraway cities and breezy highways. Making me dream of what could be going on out there, what life, what deeds, what other music, so much removed in the context of our faraway village, our house that’s falling deeply into sleep. I float back to my seat as the tracks change…..

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