Even in the deepest despair, tears flow forward in time--unstoppable, onward, always toward the future. And sadness, in the depths of its expression, is so close to laughter that the passer-by might not know the difference. So it is for the singer who is lost: even without a voice, she is found in the music she loves. Even when she despairs for not being able to sing, the music, like her tears, like her laughter, flies onward on its path from, and back toward, heaven. (or perchance it never leaves?) Her sadness is her song, and in it, the ever-flowing thread of her eternal happiness.
When the singer knows these things, she has found her voice, and she is as grateful for it as she is for life itself.
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