My Trumpet's Music

June 22, 2009
By trmpetzetc. SILVER, Laurens, South Carolina
trmpetzetc. SILVER, Laurens, South Carolina
6 articles 0 photos 4 comments

I undo the latch and lift the lid. The shining silver horn nestled deep in velvet padding reflects in my eyes. In your flawless mirror, I see my face, serene, yet inspired, by the sight of you. Running my fingers gently along the sleek pipes and curves, I whisper, reaching for you, "Here I am. Now come to me, sweet music." And you eagerly jump into my hands. I close my eyes and purse my lips. Ah! The tone you deliver with my kiss is deep and warm, sending through me a thrill I know well. There, we meet. Song pours into the air and vaporizes. It wraps around us and carries us to new heights, soaring over the valleys and flying above mountains. The notes on the page seek our conformity, but you suggest soul reaching waves of seamless music, and I am penetrated. My heart leaks into the melody and drips from your bell. Your valves obey my every command, and the key is turned. And for a moment, the world is filled with only you and I. On fire. Delivering a steady, artfully fickle rhythm in tones melting and clear. Me and you, my trumpet. No longer compared with the rest of them. But truly, and finally, our own.

The author's comments:
This piece is all about finding your music amidst the competition that often surrounds being in a musical organization. Sometimes it's easy to lose sight of the fact that music is personal, and no one can judge your music and tell you it is "bad." Because your music comes from you, and it is your own, just like your personality or preferences. This piece was written when I was dealing with the frustration of not getting a solo I really wanted in band class. I thought I wasn't good enough. Then I discovered that as long as I let my music carry me, it was exactly what it should be.

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