Listening within

My soul is full of music.
I cannot hear it,
But it sounds within me,
And sometimes a whisper rises to the surface
And fills me with intense pain and longing.

But I cannot express it.

I am too dull, too heavy and too cumbersome.
I am unable to rise
Upon the wings of these far, distant, silver chimes,
Which play so sweetly and so poignantly
Within,
In the far corners of the Universe.

It does not matter.
I must content myself
With those few distant notes that now I hear.

And for the rest?
It comes into my thought
That I must live, and work, and be – myself, as now I am,
Before my ears may catch that fuller music,
Which now would rend me, shatter me, destroy me.

I am too small, too weak to listen to a longer note.