A Song & The Tune

Previously

…It was in those stolen moments, with the lute nestled in my lap, that I felt most alive, most myself. The woodsmoke and herbs of the village might have been the scent of my everyday life, but the faint, sweet aroma of aged wood and beeswax from my grandmother's lute was the fragrance of my true, hidden soul. And I knew, with a certainty that defied all reason, that this was just the beginning. There was a song waiting to be sung, a tune that was yet to be discovered, and somehow, I felt it was intricately woven into the very fabric of my being, waiting for its moment to finally break free.