If a picture
Is worth a thousand words
Then a thousand thoughts
Buy a song.

They churn in my mind:
Ideas
Whispers

Floating through my head
And becoming something more.

Their weight pulls at them
And they come tumbling
Out my ears
Sprouting wings as they hit the air
And transforming into notes
That sing
As they let the breeze carry them

To higher places.

The soprano ones are lighter
Playful
Carefree

And they dance
With the heavier ones
Velvety and sorrowful
Before drifting away toward the sun.

Beautiful choreography.

It tells a story
Written in black dots
Like braille for the soundproof ear.

And I am the author

Sewing the song I choose

Then giving it to the wind
To see where it leads me.

And no one else can follow
Because I run along a staff
That is for my eyes alone.

And it doesn’t matter

That you don’t understand it

Because the notes you try to add
Don’t harmonize
So there is no place for them

In my song.

You can judge it
But you’ll never change it

Because you can’t
Hear it.

This is my life

And here is my song

And my mind
Will never stop singing.