• You caress my curved brown body of wood.
    Your fingers curl round my neck.
    You are my master, and I am your servant.
    But do not take that for granted.
    Like a wild horse, you must tame me,
    For my voice will not come for just anyone.
    At first all that may come from my hollow body
    Are hoarse screeches, the beginning of a beautiful song
    Planning its escape.
    You pluck my strings, my veins, and your training
    Has begun; I’ve come to life.
    For years I watch you grow,
    And many an audience has been before me,
    Watching as you gracefully bow out
    A tune, a concerto, a suite.
    I have been your faithful companion,
    Your partner, and I thank you
    For making my true voice emerge,
    Letting it be heard by all.