In her heart, there is a song

That none have yet to hear

A song so sad, no man can write

A song of beauty and of light

The melody begins but in her eyes

And ends in which breath her body sighs

It speaks of chords writ’ among the stars

Harmonies beyond this art of ours

Each time she goes to sing

The trees, and earth and heaven ring

A warmth spread out across the universe

Perhaps, someday, I’ll hear that song,

The air which no man can write

And Understand her Sadness,

Her beauty, and her light

This poem is inspired by my time spent studying vocal literature, and how each singer makes a piece their own. Sometimes, when the moment is right the vocalist lets the audience into a part of themselves they have shown no one else. In studying vocal music, one learns about how certain composers would write for a particular performer, making the music excruciatingly difficult for anyone else to perform. This poem describes what it may feel like to stumble upon that perfection of musical composition. It is also a story about trying to find the person that only you can write for, the person you can understand, where no one else can.