I remember a time when music played within my head. It was not the music of others, replayed for my enjoyment. I was my music. It danced. It charmed. It played throughout my being. It was my music.
More than once were the attempts to put it on paper for others to play. All attempts feel short of the heard music. The skills for transcription were too weak to prevail. More skills were acquired. More attempts were made. All failed too.
The failures lead to frustation. The music was sweet. The music was beautiful. It required sharing. It fought to get out. New mediums were pursued. The music changed. Results were far fleeting and mixed. Eventually the music died down as the music of others grew louder. The music that was a part of me became replaced. Childhood dreams replaced with the realities of life. The music grew quieter. The music did not die.
The music rose again when change was desired. The music again sought an avenue for sharing. It grew again to the front. Again it was not understood. Again it failed to gather desire, gather acceptance. The music is still a part of me. It still desires to be shared.
The music will build others. The music will inspire others. The music will lead others to their own paths. The music will produce music for others. The music will become.
Let the music out.