The Mystery of Life, Music and Love

As a person with a journalism degree and an inquisitive mind, I can ask questions to the point of annoying people. However, with age comes wisdom and the simple factor of not giving a shit.

Sometimes I wonder about something and then sit back and say, does it really matter? Many times, the answer is no. Just let it be. Don’t over analyze it. Don’t ‘what if’ it to death. Just exist and experience it. Unless it sucks of course, then learn to move out of the way and into a better experience.

I have found, enjoying the moment is so much better than picking something apart. I don’t need to know every detail on the who, what, where and why. I can let the mystery of something remain just that – a mystery. Unless I am writing an article, there is no reason for me to ruin the experience with a million questions. Nope. I can just cherish the time I have left on this earth.

Time. That is a mystery in itself. One of my music idols, Prince, died this week, which you probably heard unless you are living in a cave without WIFI. Well, and if you are, you are probably are not reading this post though. But if you are, then I wonder how long you travel to get to internet… Or if you have WIFI in your cave, how much does that cost? (See, there goes that wandering mind again.)

Anyway, I adored Prince for his insane talent, but also his mystery. He was elusive to the press generally, and that appealed to me. His quiet demeanor was attractive. And of course, as a young teen girl, he was just utterly sexy and glamorous, and I had the biggest crush on him.


His music is the first I really remember and so many memories involve it. I would dance around my room to Little Red Corvette. I would attempt to roller skate gracefully to Raspberry Beret. I kissed a boy to Purple Rain. [Insert a dramatic sigh here.] Oh Prince, you WERE music to me, mysterious and sexy music. I think you may be why purple was and still is my favorite color.

I didn’t know every Prince song or a lot of details about his personal life, and that was ok. It didn’t mean I adored him any less. He just maintained a level of mystery to me. And now, dying at the age of 57, I guess he always will.

His death has made me think though…57 is not really old. Of course when I was a teen dancing to his music, I thought 57 was ancient. But now, not so much. Heck, I’m 44, so I am just around the corner, and who knows when my time will be up. Today, next week, 40 years from now? Perhaps it is best not to know that answer, but to live to our fullest each day.

Each day is a gift to experience, not solve, just like Frank Herbert said. So put aside your anger, regret and ‘what ifs’ and just BE, FEEL and EXPERIENCE life while you have it. There is no need to solve every mystery, but simply relish what it can offer you in the time you have left.

And with that, I will leave you with one of my favorite Prince songs, that says exactly how I felt about him as an artist: Nothing Compares to You. May you rest in peace.




Dear Earth

Oh my love
I cry to thee!
How can you ever
forgive me?

I swear I adore
all that you are.
But I am weak and can’t
meet your bar.

For you are glorious
across your lands,
and I am careless
with my stupid hands.

You create wonder
with every nook and space.
And I wreak havoc
with my smoke and waste.

From your flowing waters
to your fluttering birds,
I stand in awe…
I hear every word.

Yet, I fail to change.
And continue to derange.
Now I stand shocked
To find you feel estrange?

Is it too late for us to agree?
I realize now, the problems are…me.
Give me a chance to make amends,
Oh please don’t issue your final decree.

Let me love you the way that you need.
I swear I will cherish every seed.
I will teach our children a better way,
So they won’t live like me, full of greed.


For the Daily Prompt ~ Earth.

Happy Earth Day dear followers. May you have a glorious day:)

Behind the Fence, Destiny Calls

And now, a sequel to last week’s Friday Fictioneers

She could feel someone standing behind her. She didn’t move but eyed the doorway. Instantly, she recognized the aged voice. Yet, she had no idea who it was.

“Are you here to finally accept your path?”

Sheri slowly turned to see a decrepit old woman. “Um…I’m sorry. I just love old buildings. I thought it was abandoned,” said Sheri turning to leave.

“Like you have abandoned your gift? Denied your mark?”

Sheri stopped, her birthmark burning.

“You have a gift child. Stop ignoring it.”


“I knew the fence would only entice you. You cannot fight who you are child.”


For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers.


PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods