Songs in my head

I’ve got songs in my head…they never come out. My throat closes up like I’m deathly allergic to my own sound. Except when I’m alone. Then they come out loud and clear and never stop. I never write them down, I never record them..I just let them get lost in the breeze. But that’s the fate of all songs, isn’t it? We don’t hear the sorrowful wailing of peasants in the Balkans, or the chants of the natives, but I know they had beautiful songs. Beautiful, deep, meaningful words whose message can only be understood when accompanied by a specific frequency…but they are lost now. As they all will be. So what does it matter if I sing alone in my bathtub, belting out my innermost emotions to no one but my cat? The sounds will always be carried away in the wind. As they are meant to be…they were designed to fly. Airborn, they will feel the world, and if you’re lucky, they’ll come back to you…a grown, expanded sound. Maybe someday my songs will come back to me, and tell me what they saw.