Find the music that moves you.
Push, push, pushes to your toes.
Stirs that something in you
not just to dance, no,
but to live
live for more.
The sound that curls,
curls up your spine and unfurls
unfurls in great wings,
now sure to soar.
It’s poetry in calloused fingers
bloodying wooden fretboards
metal strings,
brass cymbals.
It’s freedom in a voice raised,
singing words that reach
reach down your gut and
hooks your insides.
Inside-out, raw.
Listen, my dear.
Listen to the music
that roars through your blood.


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