violin

a starry-eyed girl

began the uphill climb

to learn, with her half-sized instrument in hand,

the impossible stance -

barely scraping the surface

of a craft so refined

like an infant falls countless times

before taking its first steps,

many times i fell and cried as well.

cramped fingers, arms and brain

through half-hour-long lessons

that felt like whole days

after years of frustration and determination

came the very first breakthrough,

though almost unnoticed:

out came a sound worth listening to.

i could finally make the piece of wood sing -

no longer a box, it was a violin.

from then on, i grew. a lot changes as time flies.

the more i learn, the more i realise

that i’m still that girl with stars in her eyes -

further than ever from completing the climb.

one step forward,

fall two steps back,

back to a child walking for the first time.

each practice, my playing confirms that i am

a stain on the fabric of the flawless craft

but i love it anyway -

perfection was never my goal.

im no virtuoso, but even so,

i’ve grown close to the fingerboard, chinrest and bow.

though making progress is painful and slow,

the violin and its quirks are what i call home.