Where?

How should I put them all together?
Pieces of the wondering soul simply scattered.
Life is sometimes described as the making of one's will yet it might appear as fate in some instance.

Which can penetrate one's heart deeper, a touch or music?
One touch can find its way through all the interconnected cells to deep down inside.
Music somehow fills up the room with its own particles, there's no escape except taking every breath with it.

People try to think about the world as a whole all the time, even though we all only occupy such a small space at a time.
What if it's not the presence that counts, but how many hearts that's been reached.

Do people live inside the words they said or wrote?
Do they leave a secret passage to them on their painting or sculpting?
Can we hear them in the music that they once composed?