I hear the music and know the rhythm of each note
From the trilling sixteenths to the stately march of the quarter
The notes beat their primal rhythm inside me.
Allegro, andante, largo, pianissimo
Soft and sweet the notes flow like honeyed memories, dripping Harmony and discord
Light and dark emerging united.
A spike of sound, a swell of emotion-they thrum through my veins and bend my body to its siren song.
Music, the soul’s cry for beauty and love
When was it that I could no longer find myself in your lines and measures?
When did I let myself forget the melody?
(C) Sara Ackerman, 2017