“I think music is what language once aspired to be. Music allows us to face God on our own terms because it reaches beyond life.
I feel moments from the end.
The muscles in my bowing arm tighten. The final notes are sonorous I steady my bow like an oar held in a river steering us all toward the bank of now and tomorrow and the day after that. Days ahead like open fields.
And night pools outside the concert hall. The city is still wet. The concert hall is glassed in and overlooks a garden. Eyes of rain dot the windows and shiver with each breath of wind. Stars fill the sky then drop to flood the streets and the squares. When it rains even the most insignificant puddle is a map of the universe.” 
― Simon Van Booy, Love Begins in Winter: Five Stories