Waiting Its Turn: Writing Music Again

The league of music passed me by.
Support I thrust aside.
Now my fingers are soft and my head lullaby’ed
By the love that makes me high.
What was once a friendly voice
Grew cold and alien.
I no longer cared for the music that aired
Meaningless and thin.
Little by little I shelved all my toys.
I stopped going to concerts
Too many crowds.
I haven’t the money, the music’s too loud
And my back hurts.
My tape deck stopped working.
It took me a year.
I don’t listen to much on CDs and such,
But don’t shed a tear
‘Cause somewhere in my heart this song was lurking.
My love filled a space in my heart
That long was empty.
Filled only in part by the music in me
Soon to depart.
Worry, I did, that it might not return
Now that it had no home.
But, I sat and I thought. And a spark, it caught
As I listened to Paul sing his  poem.
The music’s not gone, it’s just waiting its turn.

Before I met my wife, I wrote music and played guitar almost constantly. It defined who I was and was my primary outlet for emotion and communication. There was a more or less abrupt change after we met and I didn’t feel the need to write, play, or even listen to music as strongly as I used to. Neither my wife nor I wanted our relationship to completely usurp my love for music. And yet, I didn’t feel the need to write or play regularly. I reconciled this by writing a lyric (with music that followed) to explain to her that she hadn’t killed my interest in music, she had only removed the pain and anguish that compelled me to write in the first place. The epiphany occurred while we were sitting at the far end of Tampa stadium watching tiny dots (purportedly Paul McCartney and his band) in the opposite end zone. I realized in that moment, that I could still write music…so I did.

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