Kairos

To my dear friend, my kindred spirit

I stepped outside, the brilliant autumn leaves crunching under my feet. An acute awareness of time hid beneath every breath. It must be the hour, the minute, the second.

My heart and mind were in harmony with a tuning A played by a lone instrument in the streaming light and shadows of a church sanctuary in Manhattan. The orchestra matched that one pitch, and then showered the room with fifths above and below that tone.

It was time to begin. I sensed the anticipation as if I had the best pew.

As I played Frisbee with Blu, the rhythm and counter-melodies and harmonies of Bach stirred within. I heard the lush, warm vibrancy of my dear friend's violin as he caressed the strings with his bow. Passion was there in every strong, rapid attack of infinite intervals. This was life, at its fullest.

What time was it? What place was it? Where was I?

I was in the front row.

It was Kairos.