Music and FreedomIt's only strings,and plastic skins stretched tightover hollow blocks of wood-air and reeds and pursed lipsand elbows synchronized in their bending-and voices. Oh, the voices.But these things define my life,surround me even in the quiet places-harmony and meter.Rhythm and rhyme.Love and longing-joy and pain and anger and peace.All kept in a placedeep inside of me,where no one can find them,steal them,take them away from me-to be taken out when I need hope,or tears,or a reminder that I'm not alone,that someone else feels what I do.As long as I have these,as long as they play in my soul,walls that surround me can't keep me in,and locked doors won't hold me back-because music makes me free.
Fairie ShoesAnd there they were-all lined up in a row,toes to the wall.Fairie shoes,for fairie princesses,waiting to dance their nights away.Held in the armsof the men they lovewhile the room spins around them-and the band(all pixies, you know)plays a waltz that never ends.But even fairiesneed to sleep,and so do little girls-so close your eyes,as the fairies flutter awayand follow them in your dreams.And Mommywill put away your Barbie clothes-until tomorrow.
And She SmiledHe was so gentle, and took such care,you would have thought this his life's work-but it belonged to someone else.Mistaken for a trinket,it had been pushed aside,and shattered in the fall.Casually swept up, and put on a shelf,it gathered dust-until he found it,and saw the beauty they had all missed.He spent hours every dayfor months on end,fitting every shard into place-singing love songs as he worked.And it seemed to hear,as pieces sharp enough to sliceinstead, slid togetherunder his talented fingers.And then, just like that-it was done.And he cradled itin those strong hands-and brought it to the girlwho sat by her window alone.Kneeling in front of her,he reached upand brushed a tear away.She turned to face him,and he held it out-and he said"It's yours--it's your heart.And it's as good as new."And she smiled.
ShouldI shouldn't be feeling this-this ginger-ale-bubbles-giggling-lightnessthat makes me unbalancedand leaves me too silly to make sense.But should has very little to do with it.Should doesn't changethe way a weight lifted off shoulderstoo narrow to carry it,as soon as the words left my fingertips.And even though they weren't heardby the one they were meant for,it still felt likerainbows-roses-long-soft-kissesand smilesand strawberries covered in chocolatein someone else's fingers.Maybe should is another one of those wordsthat needs to be banished from the dictionary.