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When our son was a baby, we would frequently have music playing in his room at night, and very often, it would be the soothing music of Enya.
We played her music so much, in fact, that now, anytime I hear her song Only Time, even ten years later, I have the most vivid memory of being up in the middle of the night feeding my son.
The lights were off in the room, except for a night light that provided a serene glow.
I was sitting in a light-green upholstered rocking chair that we had bought before he was born to have in his room for moments such as this.
My son was snuggled in my arms, feeding quietly from a bottle.
My wife was in our bed in the next room, sleeping.
It was perfect.
Who can say where the road goes?
Where the day flows?
Only time.
And who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose?
Only time.
Who can say why your heart sighs
As your love flies?
Only time.
And who can say why your heart cries
When your love dies?
Only time.
Who can say when the roads meet
That love might be?
Only time.
And who can say when the day sleeps
If the night keeps all your heart?
Night keeps all your heart.
Who can say if your love grows
As your heart chose?
Only time.
And who can say where the road goes?
Where the day flows?
Only time.
Who knows?
Only time.
Who knows?
Only time.
