spark

do you ever wonder 

what you were born to do? 

do you ever watch the street musicians, battered guitar and plastic tub drums tucked into cement corners? do you ever watch their eyes?

because if you did, you'd see something. something raw that only a seeker could find.

you find the spark. every dreamer has one, i promise.

do you ever wonder why there that's moment when tears roll down, but not from sorrow? from that agonizing beauty of perfect joy found when you find it.

:: that spark :: 

{via pinterest}

that cross in the windowpane, that little moment of gaze when the sun peaks over the ridge and pours over your face.

that moment when hands go up and eyes fly shut, because this is praise in a way. it's pure Glory, pure majesty. it's that thing when the world goes black and it's You and God and nothing else. spotlights shut down and the room is dark but everything shines.

because it's what you were born to do. it's what your soul craves, that voice in your heart that cries

sing. breathe. paint. 

be artist, be writer, be vocalist. 

be spark. 

and there's nothing you can do but listen. because we are, after all.

because we're doers. we're breathers.

we're dream touchers, star-gazers.

{sharing this imperfection with emily today}