Since I was a very young, no more than 8 or 10-years-old, I've had a little friend who has followed me through life. I call him Blusey the bluebird. Each of us inherit something special from the source of life from which we come. My "something special" has been an oft' faithful companion, Bluesy.
When Blusey was young, he knew no songs. He hadn't the gift of music in any way, so I have taught him, over the years, a few of my own. Now on the days when the bluebird comes and lights on my shoulder, I insist that he leave something behind to remind me of his visit. Something more than tears and a troubled mind.
Now that my friend has learned to sing, his trips are lighter, brighter, and bring truth my way - a learning in the music of the soul. The heart's cry tells no lies. What I have learned of myself and others could have only been found in Blusey's songs, as sleep escaped us through the years, and as we've sang together all night long.
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