Purple Rain

I haven’t been watching the game, but listening from my book and chair. But I tuned in for the half-time show, seeing that it was Prince. Prince’s performance was so powerful by the end of his act, allowing the music and mood to gently rise to its peek. The climax of his performance was preluded by the sounds of a familiar yet distant tune. Purple Rain. Turning up the television, I mentioned something about the song being spiritual. And I fell back into my chair, watched, and listened, listened with all that I am. During the last few licks across a universal sign of cords, I was on the verge of weeping, and would have been were no one else in the room. Looking up I noticed that Prince was weeping . . . And the pyrotechnics burst upward with the thrusting of his guitar.