Touching Me, Touching You

Touching Me, Touching You

Whenever I hear music that seems to touch my soul
My emptiness is filled and I’m no longer half, but whole.

I reach out to another who feels the same as I
Our hands and our hearts touch without knowing why.

Is it just kindred spirits or something more profound,
Where music, man and message meet in this common ground?

Perhaps we’ll never know, perhaps we never can
Perhaps we should only feel what we don’t understand.

The troubadour sings on, and then at last he turns away
But our hearts continue singing, finding strength for another day.

by

Shirley Jackson

(Dedicated to Neil Diamond and his fans)