The melodies help soothe his soul. They call to him, comfort him, caress him. But there are times when the melodies themselves change. Their tune becomes melancholic; they sing to him in an altered way as the wind carries them in a different direction.
He feels the pain. He feels their pain.
He wants nothing more than to be able to take it away.
It is during these times he wishes he could sing his own song, to project himself across the waves, across the thousands of miles and lift the melodies from their despondent reverie. He longs to be able to console them from their heartache, to provide them with a safe haven they can turn to in times of trouble, suffering and woe.
He stands at the shoreline. He waits for their song to sing again. He will always wait, no matter how long it takes.
He waits, alone. His heart remains full, despite its fragility, with hope.