#nycmuse

Once again New York, you are here for me. 

Four and a half years ago you took me in and mended my broken heart. You knew I needed the attention, you knew I needed your gentle touch and soft, silky kisses. And I prevailed.

Then I left you, though not for long and not forever but I left you, you didn't do anything wrong, it wasn't anything you said or did or didn't do, I just needed to go away for a while.

And here I am again, walking up and down the streets I know so well, hosting yet another heartache, a different kind of heartache. Maybe an all mixed together, bunch of stuff happened kind of heartache.

I was somewhat empty when I got here, empty in ways only you could help me fill. You through sunlight on my darkness, you showed me new alleys and roads I've never taken before. You gave me the people I love, fully lit with love to spread around.

You made sure my reflection showed on every store I passed, so I could see myself, and I could see that I am here and that I am fine.

You gave me the best food and the best music, you made sure it all came together in perfect harmony like only you can.

At the moment I believe I will not be much the company to you. My soul wandered today to a darker reality and I am trying to convince her to come back. 

I witnessed a tragedy today, though I am safe and sound I feel like something was taken from me or maybe, something dark possessed me and I am fighting to shake it out of me with these words.

At around 4 PM today I was reminded that life is a precious thing, that we should never take advantage of, that life is given to us with the hope that we will accomplish the greatness we are each meant for. 

The universe, as the architect of our beings, sends us guidelines everyday to try and show us in the right direction. 

Not too long ago I wrote something that I called THE MAGIC HOUR, I hope you like it. I hope it helps you and that it will give you hope.

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Time, a perspective I have yet to fully comprise, almost stops for an hour, allowing us to take advantage of the magic. The swirl of the clock slows down, every second is a minute long just so we could make use of that time. 

The problem is, this hour comes at a different time every day and we often find ourselves wishing it to end. The magic hour finds us at work, on a flight, at a test or even in the middle of a boring date. Forcing us to believe it is what we are doing that makes time seem like it isn't moving, making us feel caged in a box when actually it was our window out.

A lonely bartender on a slow shift, gazing at the clock every ten minutes only to realize it has only been five since he last checked it. Causing him to miss the beautiful woman drinking for his attention at the corner of the bar. 

A hungry business man waiting for his meeting to end, not knowing that this is actually the meeting that can bring his business to where he wished it was. Only because time had stopped moving and he lost his patience.

A dancer practicing for her company auditions. Going over the same cheorography again and again, waiting for time to pass so she could leave and start fresh tomorrow, clear minded. She is so focused on making it work tomorrow, that she can't see how well she is doing now.

The magic hour, when, if making use of it, the bird could break free from its cage. 

The doctor could heal his patient

The writer could find his muse

The traveler could find his road

The lonely could find his mate

The magic hour, when, if making use of it, could lead us to the right trail. The trail where every hour is magic and we are whole. And until we make use of this hour, this magical hour, it will come. Again and again, waiting patiently for us to notice it.

Never stop believing.

love