not lost.

she sang

i heard a little girl

the other day

singing her little heart out

on a karaoke machine

that blessed

the entire neighborhood

with her unrehearsed

untrained voice

the child's voice

was completely off key

so pitchy

but she had no clue

she had no care

this was her song

and she sang

with everything she had

in her young being

her voice

would never occupy

the stage of

the voice

and yet

i would choose

to listen to

her untuned tones

any day

over the autotuned

"perfection" that we tolerate


since when

did hitting high notes

become the purpose of singing


our ears are designed

to listen for harmony

and our brains are wired

to respond positively to consonance

but what about the sound

of a new mother

cooing a shaky lullaby to her baby

falling asleep

in his crib

or an old son

rasping a vintage favorite to his mother

taking her last breaths

on her death bed

or the breathless chants

connecting a crowd of strangers

to a common anthem

in a packed stadium

these are the moments

when songs heal us

when voices soothe us

when lyrics unite us

this is the purpose of singing

the purpose of art

in all forms

not "perfection"

musings inspired by The Little Girl Who Sings