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by BOB GALLO Feb 6, 2026 category : Life, society / inspirational
Life is a guitar, a singing man stretching like a crack across a windshield, like trees in the sky— a guitarist’s fingers multiplying in the Song. A Victor Khara, whose hands were never chapped by American thralls, branching like all trees, all roots— a guitar, an offspring of everything that strives, the intrusion of passion at every point, becoming volume. A symphony of survival in every plectrum, in every triumph of repetition, in every inhale and exhale. Breathing is not orbit. It is spiralling.
