It's the unknown piano melody I happened to happen upon in the hours before sunrise in a quiet house containing a beckoning silence. A melody that pinpoints the feeling that is sometimes so fleeting to us. It lifts the soul and eases the mind. I close my eyes but things have never been more colorful. Pinks and blues dance around as if they were little kids in puddles. Or anyone in puddles for that matter, you're never too old to enjoy the bliss of not a worry in the world. And there's a pitter patter that yanks at your inner being as if you were a harp and it makes the most sacred resonation that you will remember to cherish for as long as your mind can keep it. It suggests the past and whispers the future, never failing to keep you placed in the present of yourself. It is the unknowing of it's name or it's origin that lets it be so free. It could be anything you want, from anywhere. A little boy just playing around on the keys or a musical genius exporting the knowledge and whole as if it were their birthday. And the colors are still dancing as long as you let them so. Synesthesia, which can be quite the curious term has never been quite as clear as you contemplate how it is that you've gone so long as to not have heard this harmonious piece. And all the thoughts that you've been negatively dwelling upon are so suddenly missing and you can't make yourself miss them. All the while the colors still dance.