In music, she can live another life, 
For sound is architecture, and ideal; 
It’s nature and it’s calm amid the strife 
Of all the world has come to make her feel. 

To make of chaos, beauty, order, love — 
To find in sorrow, comfort and release — 
To be beneath, within, and yet above, 
To breathe in every moment filled with peace 

But also, there’s the struggle of technique: 
To concentrate on something not herself 
And use her heart and mind both at their peak 
While being fully present, somewhere else

 And all of this, it should be understood 
 From one whose playing isn’t all that good