My Masterpiece

I picked up my quill, took a deep breath, and let the music flow out onto the manuscript. The strains of a new melody that I captured and nurtured for these many years were now ready to be set free as something entirely new.

My quill scratched on the paper, releasing the notes that had been trapped in my head, and the melodies that swirled in my brain. I was suddenly scared. Scared to let go of these tunes that had been my company , my life, my children for so long. Scared, that after so much care, after I let this piece of music go it would lie forgotten and unheard at the bottom of an old chest.

A few years later, after several sleepless nights of feverish scribbling, the triplets, duplets, crotchets and semibreves flowing from my pen like torrential rain, sometimes feeling like I ought to crumple it all up, the symphony was performed.

It was a small chapel with marvellous acoustics. The cellists were ready and the violinists had their bows poised on the strings. I raised my baton. The rest passed like a dream. I had no sense of time or space. I was flying past the stars on silver wings.

Later, I saw much of the audience in tears.I found my cheeks wet as well. My masterpiece, the work of a lifetime was free.