What It Is That I Am

It is not in my mouth

As I expel warm life into the cold brass

And feel it move through the neck to the bell

It is not in my fingers

As they move over the keys

In rapid succession

It is not on the paper

Drawn with thick black symbols

Dotted across evenly spaced lines

It starts in my chest and spreads out





It starts deep inside and fills me

Until it cannot be contained

Until I must release It

Until it must be heard

There is no choice

I am


This poem is about: 
Our world


Jeannie Sorensen-Steil

You are awesome.  I love it.  <3 AND I LOVE YOU!!  <3



Young man I hope you know just how proud your mother is of you. I have never in my life read more beautiful words from someone so young. I am constantly amazed by what I see of your moms posts. Never let anyone tell you to change Robbie. You are one brilliant, beautiful talented soul and I hope one day soon I can hear you for myself. Always be your own kind of wonderful. ❤️ 


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