In a newsclip about choral singing the question was raised whether a person can sing if they are unhappy. My poem answers that question for me. Singing is more than smiling and being happy.
I’ll answer because I have.
I have cried as my tears fell.
I have stood and sung and held
the person’s hand standing next to me.
Singing is not just done to feel happy.
Well not in my case anyway.
I hold onto song.
It supports me through my life.
Song has been with me
When I did not think my life
When the centre of my life
was gone leaving a gaping hole.
Song is my companion
now my life is my version of normal.
The words come alive when I breathe
upon them. They come alive
and pour down my cheeks.
Tears of days gone by colour
the words of my song as I sing.
It is not that hard remembering
I cry when I sing.