The music flows through me,

The notes inside me.

Not only do I see the music,

It pulses through my every being.

I see The Swan, taking flight

It soars, free of the bonds of the earth.

The blue sky just past the window,

My bow cannot yet reach it

My cello cannot yet fly.

Crescendo.

Accelerando.

One two three. Four five six.

The rise.

The fall.

My cello is my canvas.

My bow my brush.

I paint the settings,

I control the world.

For a brief moment

I am the spotlight.

For a brief moment,

The crowd is here for me.

The fine draws ever closer.

I awake in my practice room.

Alone.

Quiet.

Undiscovered.