When all else is quiet, there is a song.
Great and Powerful.
Beautiful and quiet.
Filling in the gaps,
Calming the constant anxiety,
And Letting me
As I age the song grows with me,
From a simple melody,
The voice of my mother lulling me to sleep.
To a great symphony,
Many voices speaking at once,
Clashing. Harmonizing. Singing.
At times the simple melody is lost,
Covered by the clashing, contrasting voices,
The dark minor chords that refuse to resolve
On a happier note.
Will the clouds ever lift?
Then suddenly warm vibrato
Breaks through the suffocating trumpet blasts,
Enveloping me in a warm hug,
As once again the voice of my mother
Lulls me to sleep.
The dark movement of my life over.
Rich, warm tones and flowing melodies,
Now fill my days.
However, the dark undertones will resurface
From time to time, with increasing ferociousness,
Testing my beginner’s luck on this new journey
As part of the ensemble.