He looks and he knows what is needed.
Picking it up with his left hand and setting it on his knee, his left hand around its neck formed different chords across the frets. Meanwhile his right hand would gently strum at times and other times his fingers would negotiate the picking of the strings in rhythmic fashion.
He didn’t need to sing. The tune being played was familiar by itself. But the simplicity of this acoustic rendition felt like it was moulding the atmosphere with a cry. A cry for the injustice to stop and the pain to end. A cry for the weary to find rest and for the lonely to find love. Every string plucked was as much a string on the heart as it was on this instrument.
When the song was over, the melody lingered on …
(Photo: Unsplash)
For His Name’s Sake
Shalom
C. L. J. Dryden
Life With CD 