The needle gently lifted by the arm, held fast. Glides over the edge and, with expectation at extreme, begin to descend.
Gently, ever so gently it touches the surface and falls into a groove, as if both were meant for each other.
Split seconds later, and with breath still held fast, expectation even higher, just then the music begins to play.
As song bursts forth, so a new life takes sharp and starts.
This dance, this thing called Life, yours to dance however you like.
Throughout the music plays, sometimes the dance oh so sweet. As if dancing on clouds you are. Couldn’t be lighter on your feet.
At other times, the music seems heavy and to dance so distant and foreign. For not all the music brings you joy. Not interested in the music at these times you are.
And still the music plays.
Sometimes forgotten the music is, pushed to the side, for you prefer anything else than the notes of the current tune.
Then with, time running short, a master of the dance you might become or not, for that choice and response to the music is yours, remains so, as it has always been.
But just, then the music draws neigh and the arm moves quickly to the middle. The needle lifted oh so gently up once more, and music finally stops.
Life is a dance, it is not the music, nor the time on the floor that matters. Important is how you danced, how you responded to the magic of the notes played throughout your Life.
Take the time to observe your Life, to learn all the lessons presented.
For time might be short. You know not when the needle might lift.