A Mystery

I woke up early this morning and got the coffee started while Jilda was still sleeping. I stepped out onto the deck before daylight and looked off toward the south. The wind made it feel like early spring. Clouds out of the southwest were racing across the sky and the waning moon cast shadows on the deck that quickly moved off to the east. I sat out there for a long while as the coffee was brewing and it felt good to be alive.
As I sat there listening to night sounds, a song ran through my head trying to find its way out. I have the melody and images but I've yet to find the thread that holds it together. That's often the hardest part of writing - finding the essence of what it is you want to say. So many words (and songs) have been written that it's hard to find the thread that's not worn thin.
When you hear songs that have withstood the test of time, they all seem to have something in common - the music, the words, or more often both, conspire to find a place deep within your psyche to settle. Maybe it's a function of time and place. Maybe it's the first time you hear the song, your mind is like a fertile garden and the song is the seed that takes root and flourishes.
I think it's a mystery that many songwriters would sell their souls to solve.