I draw a long bow in the air,
rosin flying and dancing,
curling around me,
and this is where I belong.
Where the music is.
I sing loud and off-key to Van Halen,
laughing in the car with my friends,
and that's where I belong.
Where the music is.
I take slow careful steps,
counting “onetwothree and onetwothree” under my breath,
carefully, I move across the room.
And that's where I belong.
Where the music is.
I watch my grandparents listen to Bach,
my grandma humming along,
My grandpa conducting,
our kitchen a mock orchestra,
And I know that's where I belong.
What I need.
Wherever I'm going to be,
it's where the music is.