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What Are Mornings But Mirrors of Your Soul?

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'Yesterday, I woke up
with your head on my arm.
The sun had painted
patterns on your face
as you breathed Sunday air.
You are beautiful,
and peaceful this way.'

Above are lyrics from Ingrid Michaelson's eclectic, moving song called 'Morning Lullabies'. This song follows me everywhere, constantly dancing on my tongue and playing repeatedly in my head. What this song has done for me, what is means to me is far beyond our mortal, human grasp.

When I listen to the soothing piano and Ingrid's breathy voice, a vision churns in my mind. It swirls into a black abyss and then evolves into a picture in front of me, as if I'm watching a film in my head. A bed sits on a cool wooden floor and is surrounded by butter-yellow walls. Three windows encompass the headboard, giving the room a strange shape, like this: . The rising sun enhances the creamy hues of the room. Its rays dance on the couple laying in bed, their limbs tangled in cool sheets. The young man's head rests on his wife's shoulder. He is fast asleep, his stomach slowly, serenely rising and falling like a baby's. The man's young wife, however, is awake, observing his utter innocence while he is lost in the world of sleep. She is amused at the fact that man, so proud and strong, can be so quiet and beautiful while sleeping. Her heart goes out to him as he breathes deeply in his slumber. In a nut shell, this is what I imagine.

Not only does 'Morning Lullabies' paint a glorious portrait of morning's sweet, secret moments in my mind; it also affects me in other ways. This song stood out to me because of the familiar appreciation of dawn that I sensed when its melody first played in my ears. To me, mornings are wonderful and beautiful. It is as if the world has taken a steamy shower and is clean and fresh and new in the morning. Dawn is cool and pure and ultimately yours. The air, as Ingrid relates, is rosy and sweet. Bountiful surprises of a new, exciting day swell in the cool summer breeze that frolics in through open windows. Mornings are our own secrets. When we wake up, we are vulnerable and raw. All our sins, worries, and mistakes of the night before are vague and distant when we awake to a new day. Mornings are untouched by murder, rape and other vulgar activities that thrive in the mysterious hours of the night. In mornings, who you really are cannot be denied. Yes, to me, mornings hold a blissful magic.

By now you might have realized that I enjoy writing. It's what I do; words hold so much potential that I can't seem to go a day without mixing them up and writing them down. Ingrid Michaelson's song also helps me because I enjoy listening to music when I write. This song, as I mentioned, creates a beautiful image in my head. When I write, the picture I described encourages my mind to create other images, which thus gives birth to an explosive bout of detailed and courageous writing. One could say, therefore, that this song is a vessel of unique ideas, vivid words, and uncharted new places.

The brilliant lyrics, sensual tones, and smooth emotions embrace me every time I hear 'Morning Lullabies'. This song ignited a creative fire within me that, had the tune never reached my ears, might never have been kindled.

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