I sang a song yesterday,
I thought I snag it well,
the notes were all in tune,
the phrases smooth and uninterrupted
by conscious breaths.
I varied the rhythms and spoke the words clearly,
I even anticipated each key change.
My voice was warm and it moved effortlessly,
with each rise and fall of the melody.
When I was finished,
I was sure I told the story well,
and communicated my interpretation.
But, I did not express every feeling,
my heart remained unchanged,
I was unmoved,
my soul yearned for expression,
despite my efforts.
I realized that I had not sung at all,
the music it seemed,
patiently waiting beside me,
to be awaken from its deep slumber.
I decided to start again,
this time I did not listen,
I did not watch,
I did not think,
this time I willingly vanished,