Music

 /   /  By Emma Birches
Stone Soup Magazine
November/December 2011

By Leah Berger

I finger the valves.
They are cold and uninviting to the touch.
I take a breath.
My lips form an embouchure.
I blow.

At first there is noise,
Much noise,
Then the music starts.
It flows through my veins,
Coursing through my body.

I play from the heart.
I love it,
No,
Need it.
Music is me,
I am the music.

I need it,
I want it,
I can’t get enough,
I play until my heart swells
And my body sways.
I feel it in my bones,
I feel it in my toes,
I reach deep,
And pull the music from me.

It keeps coming,
I play the notes.
But they aren’t just notes.
It’s a beautiful, swirling music.
It’s a loud leaping leopard,
And a quiet mouse,
It’s for everyone,
It’s for me.
It fills my room,
My valves are fluid.
My fingers dance across them.

Another melody,
It sounds like a trundling tortoise,
Marching home.
It goes high,
It goes low,
My lips never slow.
I breathe in,
And out.
In and out.

The music ripples like a river,
Creating smiling pools of pleasure in my heart.
I can’t let it stop.
I won’t let it stop.

Music is me,
I am the music.

Music Leah Berger

Leah Berger, 12
Shelburne, Vermont

About the Author

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