I love music more than most things in life. I even played clarinet for 13 years, and while I ended up being pretty good at it, I was never able to write my own music. I could only play what others had written before me. The technical side of it came easily to me, but the art of it, not so much.
Perhaps my greatest disappointment is that I have never had a voice for song. I write poetry; it would be an easy jump, theoretically, to write lyrics. But I could never sing them, and I struggle to find a tune.
Instead, I admire music. I have strong preferences, of course, but I will listen to anything once and usually find some good in it. Music is one of my favorite muses, and I let her guide me as she sees fit. But never without the reminder that this is not my craft, just a strong influence.
It seems to me that perhaps I respect music more for being something I cannot quite grasp, for being an evasive beauty that I have chased all my life, knowing I will never catch it. So, I take the inspiration, and I leave my respect and admiration.
Stay tuned for more “Behind the Poem” entries throughout the month of April, and if you want a sneak peek at tomorrow’s poem, check my Patreon. (It’s free!)
Happy reading,
Sibyl