Surpassed Love

                I was just a simple man. Born without the ability to hear will do that to a person sometimes. Being deaf does not diminish the appreciation of art. Painting is in my blood, and the visual arts made up for my broken ears. In my own mind I could hear. I could hear the strokes of my brush, the cries of the colours, the sounds of waterfalls and mountains, clouds and canyons. I brought them to life on the canvas and they created orchestral wonders one could not hope to find elsewhere.

               When I met her, she changed my views on song and melody. It was meant to be for she was a blind musician. How quaint, a deaf painter and a blind musician brought together by fate. We could not physically appreciate each other's art, and yet that is what bound us tightly together. During the long winter eves when the night was dark and the snow was white as can be, I would sit in the main hall and watch her play the harp. The masterful work of her fingers on the instrument brought tears to my eyes. Tears of not only sadness at not hearing her music, but joy at watching something so beautiful take place. Within the depths of Spring, when the blossoms grew, and the sun showed it's face, she would often sit beside me as I painted, resting her golden head of hair on my shoulder, listening to my paint strokes as I described the image I created. I heard with my eyes and she saw with her ears. The images and sounds created in our minds were enough to provoke an everlasting bond together.
                 This is why we loved so strongly and so deeply. Together we had surpassed the physical realm of love, It does not require the corporeal to function, for beauty can be found elsewhere. True beauty is found in the spirit. All it takes is a little bit of imagination.