I didn't have to think very hard
to know that the humming was
not coming from the sound system,
but from a familiar place
I had let grow silent and still over time.

It took about two bars of piano music--
the guitarists were quickening to throw
the straps around their necks,
and then they joined in,
bringing the drums with them.

But by that time my music
had already taken off,
that long established Rhythm
taking me over,
and I had no real choice but to
join in.

I became oblivious to the words,
although I sang them by heart,
from my bones, as if the air moving over my
vocal folds could compete with the humming
of my soul.

For the record: it cannot.