Fermata

I inch through life waiting for purpose.

Going through the repetitious form and fermatas;

Waiting for my cue.

My world is black against white,

Moving through the changes.

A single chord calls for me,

Longing for me.

It shouts with brothers and sisters united,

Breathing air into my lifeless corpse,

Bringing me from black and white

To Vivaldi’s colorful Seasons,

And Holst’s adventurous Planets.

I see the world through the eyes of music,

And through the eyes of music I find inspiration. 

Purpose.