... And like a symphony we made music; yet our harmony could not progress to a simultaneous beat. We were creating sheet music blindfolded; scripting “flat notes” and “short cords”, designing rhythms that lacked course. It was a Sonic Catastrophe. Both one for the music, yet not embracing the same melody; present in the same choir, but standing on different sides of the Alter. I could hear the clash, but we let the track keep skipping. I raised my ear to clinch the notes; we weren’t even singing the same song.
Hearing the problem, but not seeing it to a resolve, recognizing its interruption, yet replaying the same loop. We all make our own music, but no one buys a bad record. So why embrace a song, that clashes with your own rhythm. CHANGE. We all have a place, and my heart is my choir. We all have a melody and mine flows to the sweetest beat.
“I sing because”… I’m happy to be me. I have captured my independence and I am officially embracing me. A virtuous, beautiful, voluptuous Black Queen. Satisfied. Certified with my intelligence, qualified to be choosy. I’ve customized my own personal interpretation, and am free from the damage of unwanted observation. I’ll maintain my standard, to obtain the “perfect pitch”.
“I sing because”… I’m free. No longer are the days when my decisions are orchestrated from the will of another Counterfeit Conductor. Some men want to hold the baton, but lack the melody to create music. If I have to hold the instrument, and interpret the notes on my own, than I’ll take the stand to perform my solo until a worthy partner proclaims a duet.
… We all have a place, but NOT EVERYONE BELONGS in YOUR choir. We all have a song, but do you have the patience to wait for “Perfect Harmony”?
We all have a place… My life. My Choir.
© A. L. Lewis
1 comment:
That was amazing. Beautifully put. Keep shining!
Sara
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