The words are my notes 

              as I attempt to play the music of my soul 

straight into yours

                                                                   I use many styles

weave strange motifs

                        conjure unfamiliar longings and soothing connections as I touch upon the remembrances of the other, older tunes 

                                                  played from similar longings throughout the eons

before the fear fever

                           yours . . . mine . . . ours . . .

          before the fear of getting the music wrong

blocked so many from even trying to play, 

     from even attempting to write their own song of joy,

                                                                 from even believing in music at all

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