There is a song inside of you waiting to be let out.

You are like the birds that great the sun with their incessant chatter,

But your head is full of doubt.

Groggy, you climb out of bed before the sun has risen.

You drink your coffee with cream.

You stuff your shoes on your feet,

And hurry off to an office

Where they keep your hands busy.

But it’s still there in the back of your head

Tucked in between the doctor’s appointments and grocery list.

You could hum it softly to yourself, if you would like?

No one can hear it,

But maybe it’s time?

Maybe the world needs it.

Needs more of you.

Putting yourself out there.

Vulnerable.

A woman steps up to a mic

The pure sound ringing from her lungs.

Pure like the dawn breaking.

Shocking like the cry of an infant new to this cold world.

You are made for this too.

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